Sun and Moon, Book I: The apprentices
by MondundStern
Summary: 3020, Third Age. Minas Tirith can finally celebrate the peace that she has long yearned. However a strange affliction strikes the spectators of the grand tournament and the heroes of the last war must once more stand up for the people of the City while new champions have the opportunity to prove their valour. Lies and betrayals will be uncovered from this point until the end.
1. A spoiled little girl

_**Sun and Moon**_

 _ **1-A spoiled little girl…**_

 _ ****Ithilann**_

 _Ada_ [father - sindarin] should be here tomorrow, or the day after or even the day after that. It has always been that way, as long as I can remember. _Ada_ was just there when he was there. My mother, Zaïr, avoided the subject and I was requested to do the same. On my twelve birthday I was rebuffed as a result of too many questions: ''Ithilann! Spoiled little girl! Your father has others things to do, he has another family to take care of…besides you do not give him any reason to do otherwise.'' I didn't finish my meal and Mother couldn't really understand why.

Usually, when his path leads him to Bree, _Ada_ contents himself with granting a few coins to my mother and asking me a couple of questions. Likewise, as long as I can remember, Zaïr had been cruel with me. The healer established that it was a cruelty due to childbirth's madness. There was nothing that could be done until I have had enough.

I gathered a few belongings, took some of the coins _Ada_ left behind him and I wrote two letters by way of conclusion: a few sindarin words for the latter and a few words in the language of mankind for Zaïr. I was in too much anger for further explanations.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Ithilann's childhood= Claymore Soundtrack, 11/Shinpi to Shin'en ;

-Ithilann ''had enough'' and left= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack, 20/Small Pack of Wolves.

Next chapter: _The apprentices_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!


	2. The apprentices

_**Chapter 2: The apprentices…**_

 _ ****Ithilann**_

Even if, as a child, I dreamed about the beautiful gowns of the young lady of Imladris; it couldn't prevent me from getting bruises and scrapes. Fascinated by the War of the Last Alliance, I loved to embody Lord Elrond in the turmoil of epic battles against my little neighbours. Therefore at a crossroads, without any logical destination in mind, I chose to travel to Minas Tirith. Nearby, on the Plains of Dagorlad, the dreadful Sauron was defeated for the last time. Just over a month later, I reached the legendary white city. At the dawn of peace, travels remain risky in Middle Earth; that was why I followed the road alongside merchants. I never left my humble Bree, so this journey enlightened my heart and what could I say about the splendid Minas Tirith? There, I convince a Master Blacksmith to accept me into an apprenticeship: dexterity and strength inherited from the elves should compensate my female gender.

Blowing on one of my black lock to clear my view, I think of my life in Bree. I am relieved to be able to put this past behind me. It was a good decision. Certainly my Master Urîdzir is an ill-mannered and grumpy man; but today I am the apprentice of the best blacksmith of the city.

-''Bloody elf! Have you not finished your work yet?! [Indistinct words even for my ears]'';

-''I have _Orch uanui_ [horrible orc- sindarin]'';

-''What might it bloody mean?'';

-'' 'Master Blacksmith' in sindarin.'', I said with twinkle in my eyes. Adûn, the other apprentice of the ''Master'' rewards my mischief with a jovial smile. He doesn't understand this language but seems to guess the meaning. Adûn is a chubby young man with brown hair and almond-shaped brown eyes, so much that he looks always happy. Urîdzir's brow gets creased, seeming to cogitate, he growls and finally orders:

-''Bring these training swords to the Weapon Master! Hurry up!'';

-''I will be swift!…as if my life depends on it.'' Once more, my repartee earns a laugh from Adûn and a snarl from Urîdzir. Eru ! The man only knows how to grumble…In fact, I ask to myself if every intonation corresponds to a precise word or rather a scale in his displeasure. It is perhaps a complex language?... NO, my Master is just impossible! On this essential note, I wrap and fix the swords between my shoulder blades.

-''Good Work!'' Although I have already passed the threshold of the workshop, I recognise Urîdzir's voice. Ah ! I always knew that this man had a gentle heart under that entire gruff exterior!

-''Thanks you.'' was my answer even if am not sure he could hear it and continue on my way with much more spring in my step. I have manufactured fifteen training swords by myself from the first to the last stage! I am proud of me. Faster than I initially imagined, I have arrived to my destination. For Eru sake! Two words from the grumpy old thing and it gave me wings! I cannot help but laugh at my own behaviour. Near the height wooden fence which borders the training ground, I have stopped.

\- ''I am Ithilann, apprentice of Urîzir, the Master Blacksmith, I have brought the Weapon Master's order!'' I wait...but nothing. I repeat my little speech this time lauder -unfortunately patience has never been my strong suit- : ''I am… '' Finally, an old man is opening the fence:

-''Hello Weapon Master, here is … '',

-The laugh of the old man interrupts me ''I am no Weapon Master impetuous young lady, there he is [my interlocutor points a man with light-brown hair about 100 yards away, his back turned to us]. Bring him your work.'';

-''Thank you.'';

-''The blacksmith's apprentice for your delivery Eothain!'' has yelled the old man to close for my sensitive ears. While I am progressing, the Weapon Master has not done a thing to receive his package or even acknowledge me in any manner whatsoever. The oaf! Minas Tirith's apprentices are about one hundred hands who support the activity of this royal city; even so, people who believe themselves important do not deign to pay attention to us. Not really. His back still turned, the Master in question speaks to his audience -about fifteen young people hanging on his every word-:

-''It happened because you were not focused. There are a lot of things in a fight related to that. For instance...for instance, when your opponent offers you his back; it's not a good enough reason … ''

 _ ****Master Eothain**_

A quick pivotal movement, a well-placed punch to literally take my 'opponent' breath away, one grip of his wrist and a last pivotal movement: there! my demonstration is done. '' …to lower your guard and don't pay attention anymore. [My pupils are giggling] It could have happened to any of you so keep quiet!'' Restoration of order allows me to examine my adversary. I am surprised to find full lips, round nose, delicate fair skin, and striking blue eyes staring right at me. It is indeed, a young woman. I have noticed that her hair -tied up in a low bun- is even darker than Queen Arwen's locks. The Queen...one would mistake the young lady for...a distant cousin for instance, if only her brow wasn't stain with soot, her hands burn more than once, not to mention her clothes! Our visitor wear a loose green shirt remind me of the Drùadan Forest and a dark grey pants hold in place by a thin leather belt. Although her outfit hides pretty well her body curves, she seems to be in good physical condition.

-''Let me help you young lady, be assured that your little fall despite being unpleasant was instructive for my pupils [I hold out my hand].'' The young lady in question totally ignores my help. Already on her feet, she has removed one sword from her back. My mistake! Too busy checking her agreeable features; I didn't notice the fury in her eyes or even her over clenched muscles. With a skilled move of her wrist, the sword rotates swiftly.

-''Sir, you have ordered fifteen training blades. Here they are.'' Urîzir's apprentice gazes at her hard work. Her irises are as hard and cold as two stones under the moonlight. ''Good swords, with right balance and effective … ''. Once again she pays me attention: ''even though destined to practice. '' Noticing her irregular breathing and stormy eyes, I can tell she is trying to contain herself. As for me, I feel unpleasant sensations emerging in my head.

-''You have fine moves, I could teach you more therefore sweep along your inconvenience...'' Ithil – I seem to recall Urîzir called her that way – Ithil arches her eyebrow before turning her back on me. Still, Urîzir's apprentice has untied my order from her shoulder blades and let it slide to the ground. I have the feeling that Ithil remains a few unnecessary seconds that way to insult or even tempt me? She does have a pretty backside after all...Then Ithil had quickly walked away and my own favourite apprentice couldn't hold her tongue anymore:

-''Men!''

-''What is it Inkama ?'';

-''Really! Every apprentice worthy of the name would have reacted this way!'' Inkama lets me no chance to reply and storms off behind Ithil.

 _ ****Ithilann**_

''Apprentice ! Apprentice !''. Halting, I finally look at an athletic young woman as tall as I am (which means not so much). Her dark eyes are so full of lives; her deep brown hair with flaming highlights contrasts absolutely with my cool one and what about her tanned skin? She had to come from Harad, a desert realm established beyond the kingdom of Gondor further to the south. So, Weapon Master teaches his art to a woman! I didn't notice her in the audience of this... _Lýgion_ [son of snake – sindarin insult]. It is quite uncommon, however my situation also is. She gives me a look full of compassion:

-''…I am Inkama, one of the Weapon Master pupils… '' I grumble and roll my eyes ''I admit you did well, he behaved like an orc. You put him adroitly in his place. '' She smiles brightly. ''However he is a good man, he has taught me his art while nothing obliges him to do so: I'm a woman and a foreigner from Harad at that…even though he has come out better off! You should know how it is!?'' I have known intuitively that her heart was pure and, most important: I could absolutely get along with this apprentice.

-''Mmm…'' I cogitate and ask ''Do you think that he was being sincere about his offer?'';

-''His off…ahh his lessons! Well, he as a mind on its own and a fondness for hot-blooded persons.'' She must see doubts all over my face. ''I know he didn't apologies but it would be idiocy to miss this opportunity out of pride. '';

-''Indeed, however pride is my biggest flaw. '';

-''Likewise.'' Inkama replies winking and conclude with a ''Good-bye for now.'', an infectious smile on her lips. She did not have any doubt.

-''Goodbye.'';

Tomorrow evening at the forge:

-''If you had already started instead of grumble about it!'';

-''Explain to me what the point of polishing thoroughly a forge is?! All will be dirtied tomorrow!'' I am very much aware that I behave like a six years old at the moment but you don't know Adûn! Surely he must take some unhealthy pleasure in all sort of tidying and cleaning activities. ''As if Urîzir could tell the difference!'';

-''Still less work for tomorrow.'' he says and I look doubtfully at him ''Well, maybe not but I can tell the difference!'';

-''Urg!'' Adûn is so frustrating! ;

-''Hello Ithilann.'';

-''Oh Hello!'' I answer surprised: Inkama is standing in front of my workshop, a mischievous smile on her lips;

-''Ithilann! You didn't tell me you would introduce me to a beautiful young lady today!'' intervenes Adûn happily;

-''I will make sure she writes to you, besides don't you have something to polish?'';

-''Oh! If only people knew how much maliciousness hides behind this angelic face!'' he jokes before walking away. As for Inkama, she answered a question I did not get the chance to ask ''I came to bring you to your first lesson. You would explain that you yield at my strong insistence. That way, your pride is safe. Do not worry it would be credible.'';

-''I do not doubt it, I feel like people can't say no to you.'' Inkama seems to be a suborned young woman. ''How did you know at which time I finish my day?'';

-''I have my methods.'';

-''Hum but Adûn…''

-''Go, your life seems to be more enthralling than mine!'' Adûn did not go very far.

-''Eavesdropping is a nasty little habit!'' I scold him playfully;

-''Hey! I hope you can return the favour someday!'' he negotiates with seriousness;

-''I'm sure. I will see you tomorrow!'' I say, appreciative;

-''Tomorrow Ithil. Until next time beautiful stranger!''. Amused at Adûn's antics, Inkama simply nod.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Ithilann arrives to Minas Tirith = Lord of the Rings Soundrack, The Realm of Gondor

-Ithilann works at the forge = Claymore Soundtrack, 4/Sabaku Kaze;

-Eothain attacks Ithilann = Claymore Soundtrack, 16/Kouya no Rakujitsu;

-Eothain meets Ithilann = Claymore Soundtrack, 21/ Utsushiki Kariudotachi;

-Meet Inkama, character's theme = Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack, Love in the Eyes;

-Final scene (Inkama convinces Ithilann) = Game of Thrones Season 2 Soundtrack, 5/Valar Morgulis.

Author's notes:

-I was not happy with my first chapter so I was more carefull with this one. I hope you like it!

-Please review! but be gentle this is my first fic and english is not my mother tongue !

-You will find Tolkien's characters in the chapter 3 and the next to come, I promise!

Next chapter: _The Tournament_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

5


	3. The tournament

_**The tournament…**_

 _ ****Ithilann (pov)**_

As the year went by, I divided my time between the training ground and the forge. I truly believe that Adûn improved his art faster than me, even though I spent most of my time doing blacksmith's work. He had meticulousness which I did not have, as my inner fire took me quickly away. Adûn will become Urîzir's worthy successor, I was sure of it. Art of war suited me better even if I had still to master my inner storm threatening to swallow me time and time again. An interesting fact is that, before this journey, I thought myself to be a rational and peaceful person. Combat revealed this in me, unless it had nourished this nasty part of my being. Like _edhil_ [elves - sindarin], my forebears, I turned out to be a resistant and agile adversary, stronger than suggested by my stature. I was proud to be able to defeat quite a few of Master Eothain's pupils without benefiting from the same amount of practice. Two apprentices still rose up again my best efforts: a lean young man named Arod and Inkama. I did not find a way around the height, the relative speed and technique of the former. As for Inkama -' _i chest nîn'_ [my captain - sindarin] as I liked to call her- she has been a redoubtable combatant whose spatial perception is particularly accurate. If ' _i chest nîn'_ could read my though, she would probably says that I have yet to tame my fire in order to gain more precision and learn how to spare my strength. Perceiving our complicity and trust, the Rohirrim Eothain liked to nickname us Sun and Moon: _''As similar as different, as different as similar."_ A great friendship was born. At the end of the War of the Ring, King Aragorn had concluded peace with the Haradrim (Men of Harad) but as in every war, some people were not about to forgive and forget. Hence mistrust and hostility weighted upon Inkama. To lighten her mood, I questioned her about her native country. Trough this conversations, I learned that the gift of premonition and healing was present among her people as with _edhil_ [elves - sindarin] but perhaps in smaller way. She told me in confidence that she was carrying these abilities. Inkama was also curious about me: what did I knew about elves and what gifts had I inherited from them. In truth, I did not know any better: _Ada_ [father - sindarin] has been the only _edhel_ [elf – sindarin] I had ever known and he did not teach me a thing which was not in History or Grammar books already.

In order to celebrate the end of the war and honour her dead, Minas Tritih has donned her finest clothes. Many festivities should bright the city including a large tournament organized by the Weapon Master. As per his habit, Eothain has been well groomed. He wears a longue black leather shirt whose skin is stamped by Minas Tirith's illustrious tree at chest level. Two velour sleeves in a sapphire colour can be seen despite the garment, until bracers of the finest goatskin cover them again. The overall look is discreetly underlined by a thin belt. Two fair locks where blond and silver hair blend, are tied in the back of his head in true noblemen fashion. At last, I must say that even though Master Eothain has harmonious facial features, they do not deceive about his temper: aquiline nose, firm chin, impish eyes, chiselled jaw and cheekbones. Yet, he certainly appeals to ladies. Contrasting with this paragon of elegance, I catch a glimpse of the Master Blacksmith's massive build in his usual get-up: a hideous shirt and trousers whose colours had long been indefinable.

-"Finally!" curses Master Urîzir while I am arriving. I glare at him.

-"I just finished the engraving; the swords of the victors have been achieved." I state annoyed;

-"Ithilann! This is indeed the first time I see you without being smudge with soot! It suits you; however I would have appreciated seeing you wearing a gown. We might have finally confirmed your belonging to the female gender.'' comments the Weapon Master, his brown eyes full of mischief. I grumble –it seems that Master Urîzir has rubbed off on me- and retaliates:

-"Eothain ! Do you not intend to fight today?''. In my archer garment as Inkama called it, I easily seats at the front row beside Urîzir, Adûn and Eothain. The pupils of the later Master should prepare themselves somewhere, away from prying eyes.

-"I do not. I wish to give to everyone a chance to shine'' he responds;

-"I am not surprised.'' Eothain does not seem to grasp what implicit lies behind my words. This year, the man gained my respect although no in that kind of moments!

As the crowd behind us, my heart swells with excitement and apprehension. From the top of the tribune, the royal couple and their guests preside: _Mithrandir_ , a _ithron_ [wizard – sindarin]recognizable amongst them all, a _cadhad_ [dwarf - sindarin], a _perian_ [hobbit – sindarin] and five _edhil_ [elves - sindarin] who I cannot identify from where I stand. Finally, the herald foreshadows the veterans and soon we discover their costumes. First of all, they have the honour of demonstrate their mastery of horses and weapons. I recognize the arms of the Kingdom of Gondor, the Kingdom of Rohan... and...Mordor! The White Hand of Saruman! With horror, I look at Eothain:

-"What is it with you this time?'' He asks me;

-"I am amazed by your good taste!''I replies, my voice imprinted with irony;

-"I would rather see the White Hand of Saruman in any tournament that on a battlefield." retorts the Weapon Master;

-"I grant you that.''

Quintain, bohort and other trials, all captivate me! The champions' coordination is gripping, I ask myself if I can learn riding a horse and excel at it. Indeed, I have chosen to focus my efforts on learning fight on foot except for archery, considering the free time that I have left after my work at the forge.

Then this is the sixteen youngest turn, my training class if I may say so. Height duels with neutralized swords are spread out in the arena. Victory should be obtained by forfeit or fall.

-''You could have been fighting with them if you had wanted it.'' repeats once more Eothain;

-''I do not wish to make a spectacle of myself for anyone. Beside I am not your apprentice.'' I argue again;

-''Oh but we have passed that stage already!'';

-''Inkama is very skilled.'' intervenes Adûn, already tired by our quarrel;

-''If only you could have been at the training the day before yesterday!" I say with the pride of a mother.

A few exchanges have brought my friend and her adversary closer to us, it gives me the opportunity to observe her outfit. The garment is inspired from southrons' infantry equipment in a more...airy manner! 'Men !' I think to myself. I wish I could have been there when Eothain presented this to Inkama. Soon there are only height champions left, then four. Enthralled by the fray, I do not paid attention to anything else: I scream encouragements as well as advices (''On your left, your left! Urg; no!''), I curse and stamp my feet for the greatest delight of my companions. Despite her advantage, Inkama's body is getting slower -nevertheless she wins this penultimate duel-.

-''I believe I am in love.'' sights Adûn, his eyes still glued to ' _i_ c _hest nîn'_ [my captain - sindarin] _;_

-''Like you just find out.'' I remark with humour.

As expected, only Arod and Inkama are still standing. Unlike my friend, the young Rohirrim had thrown himself entirely in every fight: he had not spared himself at all. Nonetheless Arod remains a dangerous opponent considering his reach and how much Inkama is already drained. In this duel, no one seems to have the upper hand, every blow are blocked, avoided or even neatly took. Avoiding a kick destined to his head, Arod is stumbling meanwhile Inkama struggles to regain her breath. When my friend succeed to gather enough strength, she moves quickly and pushes her opponent's hips with her foot while striking his upper body with her sabre. Indeed, _'i_ c _hest nîn'_ [my captain - sindarin] was very fond of simultaneous attacks since they are very hard to parry. However, at the end of the tournament her speed is rapidly decreasing and Arod is able to catch her leg, throwing my friend backwards before her sword reaches him. Fortunately, Inkama has been ejected on the guardrail which allows her to steady herself despite the undeniable pain. Also Arod takes the opportunity to reduce the distance between them. He drops his sword and I can see him rising his arms and foot in order to (I suppose) hold her against the gate while he will be kicking the back of her knee. A few step away, the end is near. Jumping to my feet when I could not take the suspense anymore, I bring my hands to my face: ''NO! You have come this far! Inkama!'' Eothain rise up as well, puts his hand on my shoulder in order to make me sit. Inkama cranes her head, perhaps she can hear me? I chance it: ''the _Lýgion_ [son of snake–elfish insult] figure!the _Lýgion_ figure!''Only Inkama could understand what I am referring to: the hold which allows the Weapon Master to throw me on the ground on our first meeting. In a flash, she drops her Haradrim sabre and puts the move into practice; in a flash she is victorious! The two flabbergasted pupils look at the jubilant crowd: one on his backside, the other from her standing position. Then a smiling Inkama gets her sabre back and raise her armed arm in a triumphant gesture, as an unhappy Arod finds the grandstand again. The audience is inflamed but while the bulk of the public chant her name, a smaller part bawl ''HA-RA-DRIM !'' like an insult. I have a bad, horrible feeling. Now that I think about it, this unpleasant sensation has been there all day long.

 _ ****Prince Legolas (pov)**_

She has fought well for a human, I have to admit. Good moves even if they are useless on a battlefield (it lacks space and time). It is perhaps the point of this kind of event. No …tournament – I think it is called that way- takes place in the Taur e-ndaedelos ['Forest of the Great Fear' also known as Mirkwood – sindarin] : we, _edhil o_ _Dheldúwath_ [elves of Mirkwood] only know training and battle. I believe it is the same as well for the rest of the firs children of Eru Ilúvatar. Screams of joy but also of hate are growing among the public. King Elessar –who I knew under Aragorn name not so long ago- has decided to make peace with the Haradrim. Do not they understand it was fair and above all, a necessity? Suddenly, orc's mounts also known as wargs are released into the arena. There are tens of this monstrous wolfs. It seems out of proportion for this young one. In fact, surprise and horror can be seen on her face. Is this not intended? I hear a piercing scream in the human assembly. Struggling like a mad person, a young woman in gondorian clothes is held with difficulty by an older man. Because of a well placed blow, the former finally escapes, jumps above the curtain wall, picks up hastily something on the ground before any wargs catch her. Luckily, two beasts that had followed her could have not braked or deviated from their path on time. As the impact against the gate faintly stuns the creatures, the young woman seizes the opportunity. Once the beasts executed, she roars to her companion: ''Behind you!'' Busied on her side with one of this monstrous wolf while another lay dead at her feet, the exhausted competitor is in a delicate situation. Sprinting to reach her friend, the young woman in gondorian clothes draws attention to herself: a warg leaps immediately in her direction. With her speed, the former slides under the creature's legs bringing her sword against her. The Gondorian reapers covered in blood, the fatally injured warg behind her. I raise my eyes to Aragorn and looks questioningly at him. Concerned, he gestures a guard to approach and whispers words which even me cannot decipher from the current uproar. The men swiftly descend the grandstand while I feel naked in my ceremonial dress devoid of my bow and swords.

-''Gondor's tournaments are very brutal nowadays _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas - sindarin]'';

-''I can not say _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin], I have nothing with which to compare it. '' Bringing my attention back to the arena, I count up two new wargs down and notice a nasty bloody bite on the shoulder of the young Haradrim;

-''As for me, I find this enthralling, may we have something similar at Imladris _Ada_?'' asks Elladan. _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin] rolled his eyes:

-« Not before I sail to Valinor _Iôn_ [fils en sindarin], that is for certain. » The retort of the Lord of Imladris causes the laugh of Elrohir, his other son, and the discreet smile of his daughter Arwen.

 _ ****Ithilann (pov)**_

Joined back to back as we keep this beats at bay, I begs Inkama:

-''Go ! you are wounded. I am going to cover your retreat and will get by with the ugly creatures.'';

-''Do you believe I can't manage on my own or do you want to win the laurels for you alone?'';

-''I know you can do this, but I have decided to stretch my legs. _You would explain that you yield at my strong insistence. That way, your pride is safe. Do not worry it would be credible.''_ I cannot turn over but I bet Inkama recalls the moment of our life which I am referring to;

-''No.'';

Stubborn woman! I have to find a solution and fast: ''Eothain ! Eothain ! Your dagger''. The Weapon Master hesitates but ultimately throws me the object; only how can I pick it up? I cannot lose the wargs from my sight. With one of my boots I reach the dagger, slide it upon my other shoe which I swiftly lift to project the object in my hand. Thanks to the weapon, I hit the warg in front of me yet reach him in the eye instead of the jugular vein -my original target-. ''Rhaech! [sindarin curse]'' I shift quickly and strike. It took me tree swings of my sword to actually destroy the strange wolf. Behind me a drained Inkama settles for defence and, what seems more frightening of all: struggles to stay awake. Perhaps I have a chance to defeat the creatures however to succeed at it before Inkama faints? Most unlikely. Also the possibility of defending her unmoving body -without her losing some part- seems impossible. Think! Think! Wargs are mounts, are they not ? orc's mounts but mounts nonetheless and I believe I have read a book on the matter. What was it already? Something about the soothing effect of elfish language on wild horses! It is indeed a crazy idea; however, is it not that kind of solution that works in a time of needs?

-'' _Ú i vethed, nâ i onnad_ [ _This is not the end, this is the beginning- sindarin]_ _…'';_

-''Do you really think that this is an appropriate time to sing? » In front of me wargs' hears quiver;

-''Trust me ! _Si boe ú-dhanna._ _Ae ú-esteli, esteliach nad_. [You cannot falter now. If you trust nothing else, trust this. –sindarin]» Almost…perplexed?! The creatures cease their growl and aggressive clapping of tongues.

 _ ****Prince Legolas (pov)**_

-''What a turn of events!'' Sam Gamgee exclaims. He was the only hobbit who could travel to Minas Tirith in time for the celebration. ''I believed the young woman in gondorian clothes to be a human but I am not sure now. What do you think Prince Legolas?'';

-''I think so to Master Hobbit, however her pronunciation of my mother tongue is too perfect. Moreover, I believe I discern Imladris' accent.'' As I speak, the Weapon Master reaches the gallery at the request of King Elessar;

-''Indeed.'' confirm the Lord of Rivendell ''Yet, I do not recall this young lady...It is strange.'' Behind him, his chief advisor Erestor and his wife remain silent.

 _ ****Ithilann (pov)**_

… _estelio han, est(el)io veleth han._ [Trust this, trust love. –sindarin]».

Heads down and slow breathing, the wargs are lying on the ground. It was uterly surreal ! I killed this beats, I am covered with their blood however, the survivors let themselves gently rock by my voice. Once more, I intone the _Undómiel_ song -called in the Queen honour-, just in case: '' _Ú i vethed/ nâ i_ …[This is not the end, this is the...- sindarin]''. An arrows salvo ends my note and the life of the last breathing wargs: ' _'onnad._ [beginning – sindarn]'' I am beside of myself: ''Really! Really! You only do that now!''.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-One year went by in Ithilann's life= Lord of the rings Soundtrack, The Realm of Gondor;

-The tournament thrill (''My heart swells with excitement and apprehension'' to -''Like you just find out.'')= Game of Thrones Season 2 Soundtracks - The Throne is Mine;

-Arod and Inkama fight= Game of Thrones Season 5 Soundtrack, 9/Dance of Dragons;

-Meet Prince Legolas, character's theme= The Hobbit 2 Soundtrack – 6/The Woodland Realm;

-Ithilann and Inkama against the wargs= Game of Thrones Season 6 – 12/A Painless Death;

-Ithilann sings, end of the chapter = Lord of the rings Soundtrack, Evenstar.

Author's notes:

-I am happy the chapter is finish because I had some setbacks. Anyway, I hope you like it!

-This one goes with a little challenge: if you guess what will happen in the future you will win some spoilers!

-Smart and cute reviews are always appreciated! As you can see, I include Raider-K advice and always respond to reviews so fell free to share!

Next chapter: Chaos

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

8


	4. Chaos

_**Chapter 4-Chaos**_

 _ ****Prince Legolas**_

-'' I must admit that it is clever! I have never considered the sindarin effect on this creatures.'' Erestor the chief counsellor of Imladris comments while his wife glare at him;

-''True Master Elf, she is smart this one and what a beautiful voice!'' the hobbit Sam Gamgee praises, to which I reply:

-''What a beautiful voice indeed; however she has quite a temper!'' Reading more into my comment than justified, _Hîr_ Elrond [lord Elrond – sindarin] arches his eyebrow:

-''Moreover, she posses a fair physiognomy.'';

-''I understand my father has shared with you his desire to see me wed'';

-''along with your reluctances.''

Deathly pale, the haradrim stands bravely on her feet. It had been a long time since I met a human this tenacious; the last one has become King of Gondor. The woman in gondorian clothes entrusts her friend to the healer's care then climbs the thin wooden enclosure.

-''Travels and war, that is what really matters!'' the Master Dwarf Gimli ensures ''Master Legolas does not need any spouse!'';

In few angry strides, the Gondorian comes closer to us. Her eyes are the most strangest that I have ever seen. Indeed, her iris is green at his centre -as I could observe it on many human- however its colour quickly turns into an elfish blue! Even along _peredhil_ [half-elfen - sindarin] I did not see anything like it.

-''Marriage will provide you much more that you could imagine _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas - sindarin]. While it is true...''starts Iminyë, spouse of Erestor.

Half-way the wrath of the half-elf changes into absolute horror as her legs buckles under her. She falls to the ground screaming...No! Her lips are still! But...I feel thrown against an invisible wall; I have to close my eyes for a moment...The pain is intense...Stunned or inert, the living beings around me seem to have taste the same terrible black magic as myself.

 _ ****Gandalf the white**_

By this tournament, Men consider that Minas Tirith properly celebrates the defeat of Sauron. What utter nonsense! As far as I am concerned, I had my faire share of battles: I plan to enjoy a well-earned sleep...

Abruptly, clamour, whining and lamentation interrupt my nap. Panic seems to have found its way into the heart of Middle Earth inhabitant: some run like the wind or even meander without purpose, while others beg anyone to rescue them and there are those who sob Eru's name. I am dismayed to perceive the immobility of some of my neighbour among which the hobbit Sam Gamgee. From the turmoil, I decipher nevertheless his hoarse breathing. By the grace of Eru, he is still alive! What is the cause of this chaos?! Regaining consciousness, the noble Aragorn nimbly orders with his 'battle' voice:

-''Stay calm! Those who have healing knowledge take care of the wounded. The others! Evacuate as serenely as possible behind the second rampart. The fortification of Minas Tirith will protect us as in the past.'' Then adds when looking at some soldiers who are still standing: ''You! Escort the court to the Citadel; and you! [King Elessar designs the Weapon Master] Go to the first guard post, tell them to double patrol on the rampart and inside the city as well!'';

-''Arag...King Elessar, allow me to assist the healer, I will be of no use amid the court.'' Legolas, son of King Thranduil pleads. More than any other elves, this one will not live without adventure. The King of Mirkwood must not be pleased; his son is not about to success him.

-''I consents. I suppose you will join our friend Master Gimli?'';

-''Just try to keep a dwarf away from danger!'' the ruler of Gondor acquiesces smiling; he was well aware of the infuriating but legendary stubbornness of the dwarves!

-''Is this the dark work of black magic Gandalf?'' the King of Gondor solicits in a law voice;

-''Hum…I did not perceive anything of the sort, however I intend to make sure of that fact." Once my way has been cleared, I head toward the heart of the arena. The spell used in Dol Guldur at the time of Smaug the golden will do: ''Cé ná ulco sís nurtaina… I ettuluvas caninye!Cánin i sá tanuvaxe! [No evil can hide here…I command you to go away! - quenya]''. The dull sound of my staff on the beaten earth floor finds echoes in the air that carry and the energy of all living being. ''Cé ná ulco sís nurtaina… I ettuluvas caninye!Cánin i sá tanuvaxe!''Hum, nothing. No true evil hides around here.

 _ ****Ithilann**_

As I painfully regain consciousness, I lead eyes on a handsome blond elf – which is an understanding considering that his face is less than two inches away from mine!-. In a flash I raise my blade to his windpipe, as I am still under the effect of danger. Understanding my violent reaction, the blond elf blushes, obviously discomforted and quickly sit up straight: ''You were pass out, I only wanted to ensure that your breathing was sufficient.'' I lower my weapon – however I do not leave it behind- while he holds out his hand in a friendly gesture. Still unsure of the steadiness of my legs, I accept which goes against all that I am. I feel that I cannot stand for a long time; fortunately I find somewhere to sit down.

 _ ****Prince Legolas**_

Henceforth, the majority of the public and the healthy fighters have been evacuated. Master Gimli is fetching reinforcement in order to move the wounded to a place where the healers will continue their care. As for Mithrandir, _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin] and a Gondorian healer -to whom I do not know his name-; they take care of the tournament's injured left there since this strange event. For my part, I am sitting beside this unique _peredhel_ [half-elf - sindarin]. On either side of her temple a lock has been brought to the back of her head while her whole hair is tied in a dark braid. It allows me to be surprised once again: one of her small hears has a round human shape when her other follows the elfish shape: pointed! It was as if Eru had hesitated between human and elfish characteristic in all of her facial features.

-''I eneth nîn Legolas Thranduilion. [My name is Legolas son of Thranduil].''

-« Im..Im Ithilann. Dol…I dhol nîn ! [I am…I am Ithilann. Head…my head]». Before she has a chance to bury her head in her hands, I notice that her nose and hears are once again bleeding;

-''Help please!''.

 _ ****Lord Elrond**_

Not long after Prince Legolas' call for help, I emerge from the tent- this young woman's treatment could wait- and head toward an anxious _Ernil_ [Prince –sindarin]:

-''Boe ammen i dhulu lîn Hîr Elrond [We need your help Lord Elrond]''. I lay my hand on the head of the young _peredhel_ [half-elf - sindarin];

-''I rond dîn ú-naw lhaew dan i faer dîn. In raim e foe penna. Iston manem hain cared ach úanann. [Her body is not sick but her soul his. The wall of her spirit slants down. I know how to build them but not for long.]''. With the help of elfish luminous magic, the young _peredhel_ [hal-elf - sindarin] regains gradually consciousness. I am more and more perplexed; the colour of her hair, her facial features, everything reminds me of the Ñoldor of Imladris.

-''Except for the warriors to whom we have took care of Lord Elrond, the Gondorians who are still here are simply passed out. Humm in sum, a lot more fear than pain!'' I lay eyes on _Istar_ [it denotes magicians in quenya] Mithrandir, my _fae_ [spirit, soul - sindarin] had been so occupied on this young child that I have not heard footstep.

-''The same cannot be said about this half-elf: her mind was damaged, I had to solidify her barriers.'' Her strange garment which is too big for her, adds to her obvious vulnerability. As she finally takes her environment into account, the eyes of the young one are filled with panic. I offer her a piece of fabric to clean her face stained with blood, which lets her the time to get a grip on herself. _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas - sindarin] seems to silently chastise himself.

-''That is interesting…'' the wise Mithrandir comments;

-''What happened here? Are they...?'' she says with a deep sense of sadness while gesturing to the spectators lying around us. I reassure her:

-''...simply passed out. For the rest, nothing is yet known.'' However her solace is of short duration:

-'' _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin], Mithrandir, _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas - sindarin], what have happened to Inkama? What about Urîzir, Adûn or even Eothain? Are they hurt? Where are they right now? It is…''

-''Easy young half-elf! Who are these people?'' intervenes Mithrandir;

-''Inkama is the Haradrim who has fought against the wargs in the arena, Urîzir has the title of Master Blacksmith and Adûn is his apprentice; as for Eothain, he is the Weapon Master.'' She clarifies. I attempt to alleviate her concerns:

-''Master Eothain is well; he has been assigned by the King after you had fainted. I do not know what have happen to Master Urîzir and his apprentice but if you not see them here, then they must have been evacuated to safety.'';

-''And Inkama?'' she insists anxious. Her facial expression reminds me so much of my daughter when she is preoccupied.

-''She has lost a lot of blood however her wound was not lethal: I could heal her.'' I happen to take care of the Haradrim myself;

-''Where is she? Could I see her?'';

-''She needs rest.'' I say more firmly this time;

-''One minute'' Mithrandir interrupts ''you seems to know our name, but you have not introduced yourself. Who are you young child?'';

-''My name is Ithilann, I am one of Master Blacksmith's apprentices.'' _Ithilann_ ( 3BjB(5##{ ) or Grace of the Moon is a uncommon name among elves since we have much more devotion for stars. Likewise, what elves would become the apprentice of a man to learn the art of foundry!

-''Could you describe what happened before you have passed out Ithilann?'' the _Istar_ [denotes magicians in quenya] questions;

-''When the arrows felt, I had been climbing the steps of the grandstand in order to have...'' Ithilann stops talking unsure;

-''What did you want to do?'' the Prince finally intervenes;

-''I wished to have a word with the Weapon Master! One against a pack of wargs ! It is pure madness!'' _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas – sindarin] is outraged by the irreverent conduct of the young elf unlike Mithrandir who is utterly amused. She continues her tale without noticing the reaction of my neighbour: ''Then I have...I have felt my mind crack. I cannot explain it in another way. Like afterward an earthquake. Finally I have had the impression to float. No! In fact, everything that had been surrounding me at the time floated, including lights.'' Mithrandir and I exchange knowing looks;

-''Like men, we, elves posses different abilities. Our friend Legolas here is blessed with sharp-eye and great agility. For my part, Eru grants me the gift of healing, of premonition and I am not clumsy when it comes to communicate without voicing a word. For these purposes, I reach the mind of my interlocutor. The sensation which you describe perfectly matches this phenomenon.'';

-''Oh but the woman's scream!'' the Ernil [Prince – sindarin] intervenes;

-''It was hers Prince Legolas'' Mithrandir softly responds;

-''What are you trying to tell me?'' Ithilann still gathers her strength in her sitting position however her voice holds hardly back her annoyance.

-''Young one, you have caused all of this!'' Mithrandir loses patience ''With the clumsiness that accompany every inexperience, you smashed yourself against the door of the spirits that were there.";

Dumbfounded, she jumps to her feet:

-''Am I supposed to believe you because you scrutinize me with your gloomy faces and accuse me of some random similarities? '' The voice of the _Istar_ [denotes magicians in quenya] is rumbling just as the thunder when his growing shadow engulfs us all in the same way that I witnessed in the past: ''Young girl! We have more experience in this world that you could ever imagine! What make you sure that you could know more?''The spell does not impress her as she seems more tormented by the situation at hand: ''Yourself _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin], would you tell me that you reach the mind of an entire arena while you were learning to master this ability?! Moreover, could you tell me why it has only manifested itself from this moment on?'' Despite her youth, she is certainly not lacking in eloquence.

-''We have to admit Mithrandir, she has a point.'' I pounder for a moment and reason ''on the one hand I assume that you are blessed with a powerful ability young _peredhel_ [hal-elf - sindarin], on the other hand I think of a trigger event.'';

-''Oh yes and what would that be?'' she replies acerbic in tone;

-''You did not tell us everything young girl." Mithrandir harshly concludes;

-''Or we might imagine that, for instance, that facts do not validate your assumption.'' Ithilann comments with sarcasm;

-''Whether _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin] and Mithrondir are right or wrong, I think King Elessar will want to hear our hypothesis. Ithilann, accompany us to the Citadel, thereby you will have the opportunity to make your case.'' Legolas son of King Tandruil intercedes with diplomacy. It may be that his father is mistaken: the Prince's path is not so far away from the throne.

** _ **Ithilann**_

I look in the Prince's eyes, searching for any glimpse of dishonesty but detect none. However immortal elves have all the time in the world to improve their art of lies. Either way, do I have a choice in the matter? Firstly, giving a wizard and two proven warriors the slip –as I remember it, Prince Legolas is a hero from the last war- is close to impossible; secondly, I wish to remain in the city. I have to admit that the remark of the son of Tandruil makes sense: King Elessar will want to hear me, moreover if my childhood heroes endeavour to charge me with all the woes and ills of Middle Earth. To think that I admired them once! ! Ungoliant medatha aen len [May Ungoliant eat you – sindarin's curse] !

-''Hum I accept.'' I say to give myself some false sense of control over the situation. _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin] arches an eyebrow and smile, amused. I do not understand what the cause of his enjoyment is and it adds to my current irritation.

-''Lord Elrond, Prince Legolas introduce this mule to the King, I trust your judgement. As for me, I will lend a hand to Mardil the Minas Tirith's healer until Master Gimli come back with reinforcement.'' I do not dignify the white wizard's name-calling with a response, fortunately _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas – sindarin] speaks:

-''There is a stable not far from here, we may borrow some horses to reach our destination sooner.'';

-''Good idea'' _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin] concedes.

On the way to the Citadel, the Lord of Imladris goes back to questioning me:

-''Eru antha ainn an i chîn din. Henion aníratholir aen ú-na lifnen anhen ú-parthas ach i odhril lîn norathol aen len o gyry in edlothiar trî i nothlir lîn. [ Eru gives gifts to our people. I understand that you do not desire to be link to this disorder sindarin] motion him to calm down;

-''Thand ach boe aphedithol an i Ara lîn [True but you must answer to your king – sindarin]'' the Lord of Imladris smartly replies. Oh I do not wish to think about what will happen then, I thought.

Once at the stable, the honest Othrondir who has recognized the father of the Queen allows us to borrow tree beautiful horse:

-''Hum ú-iston manem nored [Hum I don't kwon but your parents should have tell you about skills who bloom through your family line. – sindarin];

-''û [No. –sindarin]'';

-''Man nar i odhril lîn ? Tin istathon aen. [Who are your parents? Could I know them? -sindarin]'';

-''ú- aníron na tarch ach le idlhyn annin. ú-boe apheded [I do not desire to be harsh but you [are] strangers to me. I do not need to answer. - sindarin]'' _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas –sindarin] froze aghast but _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] motion him to calm down.

-''Hum...ú-iston manem nored [Hum... I don't know how to ride... - sindarin]'' I say ashamed;

-''Le...|[You... – sindarin]'' Before _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond –sindarin] had the chance to finish his sentence, _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas – sindarin] who were already on his mount, extends his hands to me. Mortified, I agree to ride with him as necessity often dictates the law. Fortunately, the journey to the Citadel is silent.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Lord Elrond and Prince Legolas' conversation= Lord of the Rings Songs – Andúril;

\- ''In few angry strides, the Gondorian comes closer to us'' to ''Hum, nothing. No true evil hides around here.'', chaos in the tournament= The Hobbit Songs – An ancient enemy;

-Prince Legolas meets the strange Ithilann= The Hobbit Songs – Feast of Starlight;

-Lord Elrond heals the wounded= Lord of the Rings Songs – Give up the Halfling;

-Ithilann regains consciousness= The Lord of the Rings III Soudtrack - 11. The Houses Of Healing;

-Lord Elrond, Prnce Legolas and Ithilann go to the citadel= The Hobbit I Soundtrack – The White Council.

Author's notes:

I am amazed to see my fanfic read all around the world. You are awesome! Thanks to all of you! Do not forget to review and share your thoughts about the story.

As you have guessed by now, soundtracks are very important for me. This is not about music that I love: they are destined to fit into the story, ''set the place'' and sometimes give clues.

The wierd letters and numbers near Ithilann name are tengwar if you have the police on your computer you can see how it looks like with elfish script.

 **And last but not least** : if you speak Tamil and English (or French or even German) could you contact me trough PM. I need translations pretty please [You can't see but I make a cute face] ! I can't say more to avoid spoilers. If not, you will have to bear googletrad ! lol!

Next chapter: _Thyrin_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

8


	5. Thyrin

_**5- Thyrin**_ [secrets -sindarin]

 _ ****Ithilann**_

Have you ever had the chance to admire the Citadel of the White City? If you have not, I will try to sweeten your misfortune. Imagine Minas Tirith, an immaculate fortress builds up against the mountain. We are currently at his highest point, the Citadel. Before us, the King's famous white tree stands beside a delicate fountain -as if it is keeping it company- within a small garden. Beyond, we can see the royal couple's graceful abode, at its right a little grouping of property and at its left a gigantic tower. The whole is beautifully harmonious. However, if visitors laud Minas Tirith so much, it is for another reason entirely. The edifices have been built with a beautiful white stone which seems to produce its one light during the day. For a moment the splendour of the Citadel takes my mind of my current situation -on the Prince's horse towards the Citadel, how did I get here for Eru's sake!?-.

Near the white tree, we are welcome by two men escorted by two guards: ''Lord Elrond, Prince Legolas, I am Knight Targon. Please follow me, the King awaits you.'' In spite of my appearance, our guide does not notice my presence: I do not belong to their worlds. I would have certainly risen to his rudeness in other circumstances; however I am quite grateful at this point since I do not wish to speak. The man perceives the hesitancy of the two noble elves by my side therefore he specifies:

-''Fear not, Master Azraz will take good care of your horses.'';

-''In fact, it is a loan from the good Othrondir. '' the Prince explains;

-''I will bring the animals back, you can rest assured.'' Master Azraz concludes.

While we are getting closer, the soldiers flanked on either side by the porch remain unperturbed. Soon, the colossal doors of the main edifice open onto the throne room. Despite the circumstances of my coming; I cannot help but admire what is offered before my eyes. The long room which extend to the royal chairs is in perfect harmony with the outer facade aesthetics. It is said that King Elessar has rebuild the thrones in order to be able to hold the hand of his spouse. The elegance of the room lies in the long succession of black and white vaults, while hanging banners warm the cold rock up by their glistening colours. The arms of the numerous cities which constitute the realm of Gondor are skilfully painted on the fabrics.

One of the guards inside asks for my sword and I reluctantly comply. Near the King and the Queen, I catch sight of an old man on his knees firmly held by two soldiers. Other strangers -the royal Court perhaps? - are here as well, standing on both sides of the central aisle. All of them have their backs turned to us.

-''My King, I am sixty-seven years old. I had prayed at length for your return and I was proud to defend the city under your command. As many Minas-tirith people, I have paid the price of peace. I have watched my brother and my two sons died at the hand of Sarouman's soldiers; the same army of traitors in which Haradrims have enlisted! Thanks to God, plains fever already had taken my wife. King Elessar, Queen Arwen I did not wish to disobey your commends but I am too old to live in your new world.'' In spite of the deep emotion which grips his voice, I am recognizing the Weapon Master's handyman Duilin. I remember that the old man has been the first person I have ever met at the training field. His sad story causes some fuss among the people who are there; as for me, I did not know his life has been this tough.

-''You confess releasing the wargs destined to a later trial on Inkama from the Land of Harad. For this, you will be judge in due time. Guards! Take him to a cell.''

I am astounded! Duilin has attempted to slay Inkama! To my knowledge he did not express any aggression towards her. It was a brave old man who rarely spook. At least I thought so! My surprise changes into wrath. The soldiers seize Duilin and escort him out of the throne room. I feel once more this floating sensation but in a more fleeting way, just as a quaking. Near me, men and women hide their pain-contorted face in their hands whereas _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] raises his voice:

-''Ithilann! Ithilann! Stop immediately! '' By Eru! It is truly me who causes this, or at list my emotions! They were right! I am a monster!

-''But how?'' I say, feeling helpless.

The father of the Queen finally puts his hands on my forehead. It seems to ease my neighbours and the floating sensation disappears. When the old man comes within earshot, I cannot resist saying: ''All this time you nurture such hatred toward her?!'' Recognising me, Duilin lowers his tired gaze. He has aged for fifteen years at least. While his frail silhouette is disappearing from sight, the herald announces us:

-''The Ñoldo Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, Father of Queen Arwen ; the Sindar Legolas, Heir of the Woodland Realm, Hero of the War of the Ring and… ''. The man turns to me, awaiting an answer:

-''...an illustrious stranger.'' I say. What is the point of telling them my name? They will forget it soon enough, just as Duilin family's sacrifice. What a sad world.

-''Ithilann, Apprentice of Master Blacksmith.'' _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas –sindarin] informs. Then the Lord of Imladris speaks with all the authority conferred by his social standing but also, I have to admit, his natural presence.

-''We are beginning to see right through the last events, at least in part. There is no longer any danger, each of us can serenely return home.'';

-''I did not doubt it'' the King comments.

 _ ****Queen Arwen**_

Understanding what _Ada_ [father – sindarin] implies, I command the Court to withdraw. Only my family, Prince Legolas, the so-called Ithilann, Counsellor Targon from Minas Tirith, Counsellor Erestor from Imladris and his spouse Iminyë must remain beside my husband and myself. Ithilann is a little _peredhel_ [half-elf - sindarin] (shorter than any other elf devoid of human ancestry) with a strange physiognomy. Indeed, the characteristics of _Edhil_ and _Firiath_ [terms designating Elves and Men in sindarin] are not in complete harmony in all of her features –hears iris-. Otherwise, her appearance reminds me of the Ñoldor of Imladris. When her eyes finally meet my one, I gasp: so much sadness and anger there! As my father is narrating the last events along with their actual comprehensions, I am astonished that a little _peredhel_ [half-elf sindarin] could be the cause of so much panic. Following the Lord of Imladris' train of thought, my husband questions Ithilann:

-''Which lineage of elves do you belong to?'' Ithilann blanches then dresses up in clothes far too big for her young age: bitterness and sarcasm.

-''Revealing this secret does not fall to me, I believe.'' Silence settles. Then, I speak despite the horrible foreboding that makes me sick to my stomach:

-''Who does it belong to?'' Another silence;

-''She is my daughter.'' Erestor finally confess;

Eru! Just like my brothers, I already understood as a child that Erestor was in fact my uncle despite the unsaid of the adults. However of this secret, I had no idea. You see, it is a painful question among elves that goes well beyond honour: **no one** is supposed to wed more than once! So when it comes to intimate relationship and children out of wedlock! By Eru! Around me, elves are equally upset. _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas –sindarin] takes a step back when my brothers seem completely lost. To their side, _Ada_ [father – sindarin] is about to fail:

-''You heap opprobrium on my House!'';

-''Your House?! It is convenient to you to name me as your Chief Counsellor but we both know it is the very least that I am! Look at me! I am your half-brother,in terms of dishonour _i emel 'wîn_ [our mother - sindarin] already opened the way!'' Pain crackles the noble face of my father until a cold anger replaces it:

-''There is your only excuse for your behaviour?'' Erestor stays silent ''We could have avoid this situation if you had raise your daughter among her own.'';

-'' She was among her own, at Bree, beside her mother.'' my uncle justifies himself. Ithilann has a bitter laugh. Iminyë who was being silent until then, like she was stunned, chooses this time to get a grip on herself. Filled with anger, she swoops on the young girl all claws out but my brother gets swiftly between them: ''You! This is your fault. If you have not stood out...'' I close my eyes ashamed of my own people. Elves do not make a spectacle of themselves in this way! What has happened to the first children of Eru Ilúvatar ?!

-''This is certainly not the case.'' Elrohir speaks harshly. My elder brother has always been more protective than his twin Elladan.

-''You two out of my sight! When I will come back to Imladris, you will have to be gone. The choice remains for your son to follow you or not.'' The Lord of Rivendell concludes in an irrevocable voice.

Since my cousin Celeb-Galadh now lives with his spouse in Mirkwood and his younger brother Gereth has sadly found his death in the last war; _Ada_ [father – sindarin] must be talking about my cousin Galad who currentlyresides in Imladris. My father and my uncle regard at each other right in the eye, each of them hoping than the other will yield... Finally, the later retreats with teary eyes, while his spouse followed shortly after. After their departure, the shoulders of _Ada_ [father – sindarin] fell as if he could finally feel the weight of age. As I reach him, I slide my hand under his elbow avoiding the glaze of my husband as if the fault was my own. Ithilann's expression is unreadable.

-'' I do not understand….'' Knight Taron says;

-"...because you are not acquainted with elfish uses regarding intimate relationship and descendants.'' My husband replies;

-''King Elessar, I take full responsibility for this...this incident regardless of compensation which...'' My afflicted father speaks, fortunately King Elessar interrupts him:

-''You are not at-fault here. Rather tell me if something of the sort may recur.'';

-''The care which I has provided to the young Ithilann are temporary, she must rebuild the walls of her spirit and learn to master her gift.'' The Lord of Imladris answers;

-''How?'' The young Ithilann asks;

-''I will take care of your apprenticeship young one, and if my time in Minas Tirith is not sufficient, you will accompany me to Imladris.'' _Ada_ [father – sindarin] clarifies;

-''But, but my life is here I…'' Ithilann stutters;

-''You do not understand young _peredhel_ [half-elf- sindarin], if not you will die. The life of elves is so made, _mar i faer_ _lîn fir,_ _i rond lîn cara_ _eithro den_ _._ [when our spirit fades, our body do it also.- sindarin.]» my father finally summurizes. I suspect him to use sindarin in order to limit this dangerous knowledge to the only speakers of this language. -''Well may it be so; you will remain here as long as Lord Elrond will deem it necessary. '' My husband concludes.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Lord Elrond, Prince Legolas and Ithilann arrive to the Citadel= Lord of the Rings Soundtracks – The Sacrifice of Faramir;

\- Lord Elrond, Prince Legolas and Ithilann enter into the Citadel + Duilin's confession= Game of Thrones Season 4 – The North Remembers ;

-The Herald announces Lord Elrond, Prince Legolas and Ithilann= Lord of the Rings Songs – Entering Lórien;

-''When her eyes finally meet my one'' to the end of the scene, Ithilann's secret is finally revealed =The Hobbit Soundtrack – The Nature of Evil.

Author's notes:I imagined Iminyë to look like a young Uma Thurman, I don't know if you like to know it. Anyway, thanks all of you for your interest. Please review! Tell me guys if you foresee how it turns out. I hope you like it!The previous chapter was inspired (without my own knowledge ^^) by terrorist acts that plague my country so I decided to dedicate ''Chaos'' to victims of violence.

 **And last but not least** : if you speak Tamil and English (or French or even German) could you contact me trough PM. I need translations pretty please [You can't see but I make a cute face] ! I can't say more to avoid spoilers. If not, you will have to bear googletrad ! lol!

Next chapter: _Convalescence_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

5


	6. Convalescence

Chapter 6 : **Convalescence**

 _ ****Inkama**_

 _Complete_ _darkness morphs into verdant landscape as if my eyes have adapted to a different kind of lightness. I find myself on a hill where two trees stand lonely. They are so large that I am hardly able to see them entirely. However, I cannot help but notice the strange property of their leaves: while one seems to release a powerful golden light; the other emits a_ _soft silver glow. In this respect, if a modest stream may remind anyone of the beauty of oceans; then, we could relate the White Tree of Minas Tirith to this one. As to the former, there is no other like it in Harad Land or even in Gondor and yet, the perennial plant seems so familiar to me! It is a strange feeling:_ _my heart sings as it would have done it when meeting an old friend after a long separation._ _I let my fingers wander_ _on his bark. In the distance, rugged mountains complete this enchanting landscape. Oh Mother! I could stay hours here! Carried by the breath of air, two golden flowers are slowly deposited upon my hair. Suddenly yellow eyes appear into the trunk of the familiar tree: surprise makes me fall backwards. One of its branches reaches down to my level and I_ _hold it with a lot of hesitancy. Under my fingers wood and leaves transform themselves into a woman of flesh and blood. The lady-tree thus formed has the feature of an ageless Haradrim. Her almond-shape eyes are so dark that I cannot decipher their pupil, the contour of her nose is so precise that it seems to be carved into rock, her lips are full and her complexion is as matte as mine. She firmly grasps me and said with intensity:_

 _-''_ _Nīṅkaḷ tērvu ceyyappaṭṭuḷḷaṉa! [You have been chosen!- ancient dialect haradrim]''. I am disconcerted, what does she refer to? It seems to me that I have already experienced this, yet I am unable to identify a particular memory. Then I heard a noise near me:_

 _-''Bam, bam.'';_

 _-_ _''_ _Nīṅkaḷ tērvu ceyyappaṭṭuḷḷaṉa!'' The Lady-tree insists. She is obviously expecting something from me. ''Inkama? Inkama? Are you awake'' The lady-tree asks with Arod voice._ I am abruptly brought back to a small room with faded walls and a cluttered ceiling where too many dry plants hang freely. I am currently lying in a little bed as a dubious-looking blanket covers me. What I am doing here? Finally all is coming back to me: the tournament, my victory, the wargs, the bite and then, nothing. I realize that the Lady-tree belongs in fact to a series of recurrent dreams which plagues my nights since I am a seven years old. At that time, my father questioned the Wises of my country in order to learn a bit more about it. However, they assured him back then that it was just dreams: synthetic expression of my memories, thoughts, emotions and hopes. In this present, Arod watches me carefully in silence. Oh yes! he has asked me a question, I must find a scathing reply: -''How could it be otherwise?'';

-''I came to check on you.'' He announces, not raising my current mood or even taking umbrage with it. Arod is a slender young man born in Rohan; like his compatriots, he has blond hair and green eyes.

-''As you can see, I am alive and it is no thanks to you.'' Anger grows in the pit of my stomach; what did I like about him? Pretty features, strong jaw lines, what else?

-''What would you had me do?'' this prize idiot dares to ask! Surely he was not this stupid at the beginning?!

-''Nothing, in fact I do not want you to do anything in the future about me.'' I say venomous;

-''Inkama ! if I had intervened, you would have lost by my fault and never forgiven me.'' He justifies himself but I am in no mood to hear his poor plea;

-''Rest assured, I do not forgive you any better now. Go away, I don't want to see you.'' I plan however to get him to understand his mistake once my strength regains.

-''Inkama, you cannot sweep our story away like that, I love you!'' He argues while holding my hand, taking clear advantage of my slower reflexes. Enough is enough! As angry tears make my eyes shine I pull myself violently out of his grasp and roar:

-''I say go away! If my companion is not there for me, what is the use of having one? Go away!'';

-''I will leave for now, yet I do not give up.'' I grasp a glass placed near me and throw it toward him. If he does not understand the message, it relieves me of my resentment...for a time. Fortunately, he departs but not without slamming the door behind him.

I hear knocking:

-''Which part of 'go away' do you not understand?'' I take a hold of some objet and prepare myself to launch it. The door opens onto Ithilann's face :

 _ ****Ithilann**_

-''Easy, I have came in peace'' Inkama's nerves seems to be on edge;

-''Oh! I mistake you for Arod'' my comrade justifies herself;

-''What has he done to deserve such welcome?'' I ask and she gets back to what have occurred before my visit: the words exchanged and her final decision. As Inkama do not desire to carry on with the subject, she drifts onto another one:

-''And yet I did not think to have been hit on the head.'' As incomprehension is clear on my face, she points my dress out. It is true that I am not accustomed to wearing that kind of clothes. Queen Arwen surely experienced some weird guilt when she gave me an old gown -from when she had only been the daughter of the Lord of Imladris- and allowed me to bath. In other circumstances my pride would not permitted myself to accept her generosity; however I did not wish my soil, sweat and blood stained face to worry Inkama. The dress in question cuts out of metallic-blue velvet is simply stunning despite being oversized for me. Its double collars enhanced with delicate pearls are embroidered by the mean of strong silver threads. Finally, elegant white veils escape from its short velvet sleeve. Suffice to say that I look absolutely ridiculous so richly dressed.

-''Oh it is just a loan, my today clothes was overly soil.'' Then coming back to the main purpose of my coming, I inquire about her health.

-''Much better, my shoulder wound...'' Inkama sits up straight and lifts her bandage ''is almost gone! What kind of magic is this?! '';

-'' Elfish magic or _Istari_ [it denotes magician in quenya] one'' I say shrugging my shoulders;

-''It is impressive, can you also do that?'' she asks me curious;

-''Far from it.'' It could be the perfect time to talk about my gift or rather my curse but I cannot, not yet. Instead I recount what it is about Duilin, Eothain's handyman.

-''The traitor !'' Inkama shouts;

-''I know but if you had been here at the time of his confession! More than angriness, despair has guided his gesture.'' I know my friend's heart, she would have been moved.

-''I understand however, It is natural to be angry with him, I am right? '' I forget – for a few hours- how much Inkama likes to use rhetorical questions.

-''Yes of course.'' I say then become absorbed in the contemplation of the fabric that partially covered Inkama: it is brown or perhaps green, I cannot decide.

-''You have not tell me everything, do you?'' My comrade guesses;

-''I don't like when you do that.'' I am so easy to read?

-''You mean when I am right?'' She teases me;

-''Don't push me it is hard to say.'' Inkama stays silent and I am free to pursue. I reveal my secret which I carry for far too long, the one about my birth. She looks at me for a while, a strange expression on her face and speaks:

-''Must I call you my Lady for now on? unless you do not plan to address to me anymore. I now understand more the dress.'';

-''You understand nothing! I am an abomination for elves, just as the product of incest!'' I glance at her surreptitiously ''is incest forbidden in Harad?'';

-''Of course silly !'' she cries aloud offended;

-''How I am supposed to know ?!'' I exclaim in turn then add sombrely ''There something else.'' I stand up and open the door onto two Gondorian soldiers.

-''What is it Ms Ithilann?'' One of them asks;

-''Nothing at all, I only wish to aerate the room for my friend.'' I close the door, leaving them behind.

-''They are here for me and not for protection purpose. '' Taking my courage in both hand, I come back to the late discovery of my 'abilities' and the resulting chaos. Inkama literally changes colour.

-''Inkama don't look at me like that, I did not want to...'';

-''No, this is not about that. I do not feel well that all.'' My friend interrupts me;

-''Eru! I will search for the healer!'' Walking the talk, I hasten to find Master Mardil. As I wait worried, the later examines Inkama's eyes and the inside of her mouth, then grasps her wrist:

-''You lost a lot of blood, you should eat and rest. Your friend will come back tomorrow.'' My comrade nods in affirmation and I understand that I need to cut short my visit:

-''Take care of you ! I will be back tomorrow if you wish.'' Inkama accepts.

 _ ****Inkama**_

Not long after Ithilann's departure, the healer brings me dried meat served with purée and some sliced fruits. Hoping to sweep away my inner turmoil, I question Master Mardil while I eat:

-''I wondered, did trees whose leaves emit light exist?''

-''What a question!'' I am prepared to attribute my harebrained question to my blood loss when the healer adds: ''Yes of course, did they teach you anything at all in Harad?'';

-''He doesn't seem so ! tell me more.'' I say very interested. Ah! I did have the feeling that the Wises of the land of Harad were mistaken! Is it not true that the very existence of luminous trees is in favour of premonitory dreams?! And if the Wises are wrong on this matter, we can imagine that they are also wrong about what is tormenting me, unless it is simply my wishful thinking. No, I do not have the luxury of losing myself on this train of thought at the moment, I have to rest.

-''You must rest but if you are still interested tomorrow, I will talk to you about Laurelin and Telperion.'' He assures me and I agree to it considering my overwhelming fatigue.

 _ ****Ithilann**_

Inside the library of the Citadel, oak bookcases and reading stand are carefully ordered. The candelabras softly illuminate the ceiling where I can admire the King's white tree -symbol of the House of Gondor-, against a sapphire blue background embellished by turquoise and silver lines reminding the House of Imladris. In this quiet place, I meet _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] as we agreed earlier. His grey garment and his elfish tiara glow under the candlelight.

-''Sui cenol, dandellin, ú-boe i maethyr lîn aphedir nin. [As you see, I came back, it is not necessary for your soldiers to follow me.- sindarin]''

-''Hen ú-cillin, far henion i innas en Ara Gondor. Eb penninil oh edlon: amdir gala adh lû [I did not choose this, however I understand the decision of the King of Gondor. You spook of stranger before: trust grew with time. sindarin]'' He answers with schrewdness ; -''Thand. Man cerim minui? [True. What do we do first? - sindarin]'' I say grasping a book randomly; I cannot wait to put all of this behind me!

-''Minui geliathol manen amman dared ledhol trî faer. Annin pelil narad manen tel minui? [First you will learn how to stop going through minds. Can you tell me how it [is] first?- sindarin]'' He inquires ;

-''Nónen rûthas a dem, han il pelin epholad. [I was angry and sad, that is all I can remember.- sindarin]'' I laconically say.

-''é '' He pronounces in a language I cannot recognize with certainty. Perhaps quenya, the original language of elves? Erestor did not take the time to teach me this. The Lord of Imladris pursues in sindarin : ''Be hiratham îdh sír [So we will find peace today.]'' Yet the father of the Queen seems serious. Elves be damned with their cryptic wording! I definitively not imagine at the time that I was about to spend the rest of the evening trying my hand at two main learning: maintaining a calm breathing; visualising my body and intimate it to relax. The major difficulty lied in not getting lost in my own mind, my own thought unrelated to the task. Although it appeared easy at first glance, finally the exercises were about to going against everything that I was: my mind was not made to be at rest.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Inkama's dream= Claymore Soundtrack - Kanashiki Shukumei;

-Inkama and Arod (Inkama's theme)= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack – Love in the Eyes;

-Ithilann visits Inkama (Ithilann's theme)= Game of Thrones Season 6 Soundtrack – Needle;

-Inkama and Mardil talk about tree= Lord of the Rings songs - Leaving Lórien;

-Ithilann meet Lord Elrond at the library= Epica – Run for a Fall (acoustic).

Author's note:

Sorry for the delay, I plan to go to Scotland soon and the trip takes more time to organize than intended.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

6


	7. What Haradrim believe in

_**Chapter 7:**_ _ **What Haradrim believe in**_

 _ ****Inkama**_

The day after, Master Mardil hails me:

-« Inkama! Sadly I do not have any time to teach you the story of Laurelin and Telperion: Lady Ivorwen is about to deliver her child. I feel rather sad about that since botanic is rarely this memorable. However I leave you this book, you will find what you are looking for in the chapter on the King's White Tree. » Then he suddenly asks: « But now that I think about it, do you know how to read Common Speech? »

-« Yes, I have been here long enough. » I say and the healer looks at me with greater respect;

-« So you will manage. » On that note, Master Mardil leaves the House of Healing and not so long after, I discover a pleasant spot to begin my reading. As I sit on a fine bench cooled by the sun in the courtyard, my eyes falls on the title carved in the old leather cover: _« Concerning true wood plants in Middle Earth »_. The dusty book, heavy and voluminous, opens itself on the ''E''page: Ents are the first trees to be described. An illustration goes along with the observations...I cannot believe my eyes! Trees with eyes! Sires-trees, Ladies-trees with eyes as in my dream! Wises of the Land of Harrad are not that wises! :

* * *

« _**1\. Designation**_

The term _Ent_ (or _Ents_ in his plural form) is derived from the rohirrim word for giant. There are also called _Onodrim_ or _Enyd_ in sindarin [elfish letters that I cannot read are joined]. I could not determinate the quenya word that designates these creatures: to my knowledge, elves have themselves forgotten about it at this beginning of Third Age.

 _ **2\. Characteristics**_

The Ents morphology reflects the appearance of the trees of Middle Earth except that they are taller, have eyes and also an inner cavity allowing them to talk. With some attention, you can even decipher some humans form in their thick wood: nose, mouth, arms, and legs. In that respect, there is among Ents _north cherry_ with human form, _oriental beech_ with human form et cetera. Interestingly, their roots can either sink into the ground or stay outside. This last characteristic enables Ents to walk. It should be noted that their particular morphology bestow them colossal force. Lastly, these creatures seem to enjoy a long life. On this matter, Agathor the healer maintained that the individual Treebeard was older than Galadriel, the Lady of Lórien – born in 1362 during the Years of Trees-.

 _ **3**_ _ **. Geographic distribution and habitats**_

Like everything that grows, Ents need light, water, clean air and good soil to prosper. Neither my sources nor I know any diseases that could bring these giants to their knees. However, considering their natures, they must remain vulnerable to fire and axe. Círdan – a Sylvan elf - wrote in the oldest book of my own library that Ents who was able to speak awoken in the Fangorn Forest during Years of Trees. Then male Ents populated the once flourishing forests west of the Anduin River including the Beleriand area – now under water -. Conversely, female Ents settled in the fields and the orchards near their original forest. The author referred to the meanders of the Anduin River in particular: Rohan on the west side of the area and the Brown Lands on the east side. At this beginning of Third Age, male Ents have been seen in the Fangorn Forest while female Ents have not as far as I know.

 _ **4\. Life cycle**_

Many authors have noticed the decline of Ents population. Indeed, on one hand, wars do not spear them; on the other hand, male-Ents and female-Ents seem to have lost sight of each other. On this matter, no one knows how these humanoid trees proliferate: in the same way as animals or in the same way as trees or even through a different process?

Ents seem to be able to hibernate for a time while they are hard to decipher from ordinary trees. The reason is unknown.

Futhermore, we have yet to discover further knowledge on the matter of their death.

 _ **5**_ _ **. History of their society and believes**_

The birth of Ents divides Elves and Magicians. Some Edhills maintain that they have been created by Yavanna, the Valië or even by themselves during Years of Trees. For Istari, Ents have been conceived by the Valië in even more ancient times: when the first Edhills arisen or perhaps before that. Still, others decipher talkative Ents who have appeared during Years of Trees from mute Ents of older birth. However all agreed that Elves gave them voices by means of magical water. Nowadays, Ents speak Elfish Languages, Common Speech and their own language: Entish. Some say that they are cautious, others that they are simply slow; the fact remains that their society is organised by a Counsel, not through a monarchy. According to Elves, male Ents –also called Shepherds of Trees- are devoted to Oromë, the Vala. They have the duty to protect the forest against orcs, dwarfs and other dangers. Female Ents, for their parts, who told Men the art of agriculture, are devoted to Yavanna, the Valië. They protect field and orchard. Over the years, Ents have became secretive, mistrustful and even violent; so that, it is best not to venture in the Fangorn Forest. It explains why I could not gather much information on the matter of these strange creatures. **»**

* * *

The article end with the references used to write these few pages. Oh Mother! Against all expectations, trees such as those from my dream are indeed real in these areas even so the author makes no motion of luminous foliages or human reincarnation. However he do not seems to know much about Ents: it is possible that these capacities are only vested in some sort of Ents or the long lost female Ents or even all the Ents for all I know! The Lady-tree has reminded me that I have been chosen. I wonder what the link between her and the _Cuvar_ or between her and the Couple Creator is. May it be that the Lady-tree is the Mother Creator? My mind boils, almost drowns in all these possibilities! However it remains true that this dream is very important, I can feel it. Now, in order to decode it, I have to learn much more about these creatures. So, I decide to go to the Fangorn Forest as soon as I can. My mission will have to wait. My inner voice chooses this time to laugh at my new found plan: _« Smart girl! If today you have bought yourself some delay, the day will come when you will run out of time! Then, do you really believe that you will be brave enough to complete your task?! »._

-« Hello Miss! » A Halfling with a baby face interrupts my turmoil. He wears a pale yellow shirt and a brown suit including a pant leaving some part of his hairy legs bare.

-« Hello.» I greet him;

-«My name is Samwise Gamgee. Are you not the warrior who fought so bravely during the last tournament? » he asks me ingenuously;

-« Yes I believe so. Inkama, apprentice of the Weapon Master. » I say with a smile;

-« Oh ! You were so impressive ! » he comments as he sits on the bench where I have found quiet;

-« Thanks you. » I am sincerely glad to know that every habitants of Middle Earth did not want me dead.

-« Are you interested in Ents ? » he continues as he points out my book still open at the same page.

-« In fact, I did not know they even existed until a few hours. Master Mardil has let me this to distract me. » As a precautionary measure, I do not plan to reveal my true interest in the mater.

-« You are not the only one: numerous Hobbits were convinced that they did not exist until the War of the Ring. Today, King Aragorn has given to the Ents a large territory west of the mountains though they prefer the Fangorn Forest. Indeed, they allowed us to defeat Saroumane at Isengard. » He informs me very seriously;

-« Oh my! Are they this fierce? » I find it hard to imagine savagery in the heart of this Ents; however I have to admit, my representation of this creatures is more about children's story than war machine.

-« Oh yes ! I never went to the Fangorn Forest but my two comrades –Merry and Pippin- were there. They witnessed their powers: with a single back 'hand' of branch they could throw tree Orcs six hundred yard away and swat more than one with a simple motion of their 'feet'! Merry and Pippin could have shared the same fate if the Ents had them mistaken with creatures of Modor.» Sam Gamegee tells me obviously amazed;

-« Have you ever seen females-Ents ? According to this book they are lost even for their own kin. » I ask innocently;

-« No, it seems there will be no more young shoots in the future. It is so sad to lose such creatures. » He answers with consternation. I nod and question him moreover:

-« Tell me, there is something I do not quite understand: what is this Years of Trees that the author writes so much about? »

-« We, Hobbits of the Shire do not use this system but Elves and Men from here do. There are Years of Lamps, then Trees, and finally Years of Sun in which we count the First Age, the Second Age etc. » He enumerates with his fingers, « The memorable events which make History are dated from one Age or another. Knowing that I love everything that grows, Queen Arwen has told me the Valinor Trees' story which the Years of Trees referrers to. Indeed, it turns out that at the end of the Years of Lamps Yavanna, the Valië helped by Nienna, another Valië have created two luminous trees. Except from their gigantic spans and the property of their foliages, one strongly resembled the White Tree of the King whereas the other could have been oriental cherry crossed with a simple beech. The former named Telperion had silver and dark green leaves while the later named Laurelin had pale green and golden leaves. » Very strange creatures live on these lands, definitively! This Telperion and this Laurelin seem to look like the trees from my dream. I do not know what to think of that:

-« Were they Ents ? » I interrupt the hobbit;

-« No I do not believe so. » He says slowly. Master Gamgee seems to think about it for the first time, yet, is it not strange to name trees, even beautiful one, if they are not a little human. Bit by bit, the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. I imagine Ents with luminous foliages, perhaps the first entic life forms. According to magician, Ents has emerged before Years of Trees like Laurelin and Telperion, so it could be possible. Master Gamgee goes on with his tale: « They still were special trees: in this ancient time they produced a vital light for earth. In Vána's gardens - a Valië - , Arien the Maia ensured the safety of the golden flowers of the tree that she loved so much. Did you know that Queen Arwen's ancestor, Melian the Maia, lived there with the Valië? » I shook my head then think out loud:

-« Why look after flowers? Was it not wiser to look after the two trees? »

-« You are right considering the end of this story: Melkor the vala hurt the trees with his spear as Ungoliant, a dark spirit who could take the form of a spider, sucked their saps while poisoning them with his sting. » He shivers then explains himself: « I hate these creatures! One of these things has almost killed Master Frodon at Cirith Ungol ! »; and finally concludes his tale: « Unfortunately, the trees did not survive. »

-« For what reason did Melkor and Ungoliant attacked the trees? » Everything is so obscure.

-« I think that Melkor had promised an important reward to Ungoliant. As for the Vala, Queen Arwen tells me that he was jealous of everything that was beautiful and pure, only power warmed his cold heart. » he clarifies even if it did not explain anything for me.

-« Is there anything left of these creatures? » It could explain a lot of things, my dreams for starters.

\- « Before their death, Yavanna the Valië had created Galathion after Telperion but it was not the same: the tree was smaller and did not produce any light. I was told that after a few cuttings, the White Tree of the King had been obtained from Galathion. » Now I understand Master Mardil's recommendations for my reading. The hobbit continues: « Then Fëanor the elf conceived the Silmarils: tree globes shaped in indestructible crystal sheltering the light of the Trees of Valinor. Now a day I believe they are lost. Finally, the tears of Nienna the Valië and the incantations of Yavanna the Valië have brought back a single flower and a single fruit to life from which they have created the Moon and the Sun. Oh I almost forgot! According to Queen Arwen, Lady Galadriel had created a luminous vial from a Silmarils. The object was very useful during the War.» I am discouraged; nothing explains any of my dreams with certainty.

And there is this stories of Valar ! far away from everything I believe in! How reconcile my faith, my mission and what I just learn? For the people here Eru Ilúvatar is God, creator of all life. At first, he gave birth to Ainor –sorts of inferiors divinity- of which Valar and Maiar are a part. Then Eru is supposed to have delegated a few of his work to the later granting them solely the understanding of the portion of his mind they came from, whatever that means. However, in my observations, people in this land are not very pious: they do not pray, they are not grateful and their conducts are not regulated after the example of this Eru Ilúvatar. Life is very different in Harad :

-« Do you believe in this story? I mean these Valar…We, Haradrims do not believe either in Eru, or these Valar. »

-« I never ask myself this question. » he answers shrugging his shoulders, then adds with curiosity « What do Haradrim believe in? »

-« We believe that the Creator Couple have created everything that lives. » I answer shortly;

-« In ancient times, Father and Mother had send their three children to shine upon the world but neither the first mortal men, or the first being without age proved themselves worthy of them. » I turn around and land eyes on an old man wearing white clothes leaning on a long stick sculpted elegantly. At a surprisingly brisk pace considering his age, the famous Gandalf the White reaches us quickly: « Chaos, who pre-existed everything, killed the little three out of jealousy. Father and Mother finding their bodies cried during three months and three days until they had no tears anymore. The story goes that it is for this very reason that it rarely rains in Harad. But no despair Master Hobbit, once the creatures of this earth will prove their worth; Father and Mother will send their children again. » The old man seems to know a great deal about the haradrim cult. I am surprised; strangers are extremely rare in my necks of the woods.

-« Gandalf ! » the little hobbit shouts as he hugs the magicians;

-« Hello my friend. » the later greets with a softer voice, then adds to my attention: « Miss.»

-« Inkama, apprentice of the Weapon Master. » I present myself and ask when curiosity wins over me: « May I ask you how you know this? »;

-« I travelled in many places. » He simply says;

-« She is the Haradrim who has defeated Gondorians then wargs during the tournament! » the Halfling exclaims still impressed;

-«So she is very brave, as you are Master Gamgee. » then he turns to me « I have learned what has happen to you, I am truly sorry. » I nod as I do not wish to speak more about this 'incident' today. After enquiring about our health and having himself examines us, the Magician of the North decides the end of our recovery in the House of Healing; yet I refuse to follow them, claiming to be far to engross in my reading –which is not entirely wrong-. A few moments later, I have finished the chapter on the White Tree of the King; however there is nothing new there, at least nothing that seems significant.

Snooping towards the library of the House of Healing, a single edition catches my interest. The book, which is mostly about the phenomenon of tide and sunshine, dedicates a few pages on the Sun's and the Moon's birth. To summarize, the author think that Nienna the Valar and Yavanna the Valar give birth to the Sun and the Moon from the last fruit of Laurelin and the last flower of Telperion. Arien the maia – already there in Master Gamgee's tale - was chosen to lead the ship carrying the Sun trough the sky. Indeed she, on one hand, swore to protect the flowers; and the other hand, could endured the heat from the ship because of her power –linked to fire-. Tilion, one of the maiar hunters of Oromë the Vala, was designated to lead the Moon because he loved to stay by Telperion so much and also secretly harbored feelings for Arien. Of course, Melkor the Vala send spirit of the dark against Tilion; nevertheless the later defeated him. Before I was overwhelmed with all these new information, I notice that Oromë the Valar and Yavanna the Valar are involved in the tale of the Ents creation as well as the tale of the Valinor's Trees. This last analogy seems to suggest communal specie is it? I certainly not believe in the existence of Valar, however is it no true that ancient stories share some truth?

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-'' The day after, Master Mardil hails me'' to '' _you will be brave enough to complete your task?!'',_ the story of Laurelin and Telperion and the birth of the Ents= Lord of the Rings II Soundtrack – The dreams of Trees ;

-''Hello Miss'' to '' He enumerates with his fingers'', Inkama meets Sam Gamgee (hobbit's theme)= Lord of the Rings I Soundtrack – 4/Very old friends;

-''The memorable events which make History'' to ''nothing explains any of my dreams with certainty'' (Laurelin and Telperion's theme)= Lord of the Rings songs - Leaving Lórien;

-'' And there is this stories of Valar !'' to '' strangers are extremely rare in my necks of the woods.'' (the haradrim cult's theme)= Game of Thrones Season 3 Soundtrack – Mhysa;

-Inkama meets Gandalf (Gandalf's theme)= Lord of the Rings Songs - The White Rider repeals the Nazgûl;

-Inkama is looking for information in the library= Lord of the Rings songs - Leaving Lórien.

Author's notes:

I am so sorry for the waiting, too much work and emergency! I hope you enjoy this piece!

Next chapter: _A journey for the body and the mind  
_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

8


	8. A Journey for Body and Mind

_**Chapter 8:**_ _ **A Journey for body and mind**_

 _ ****Ithilann**_

''Bam, Bam'' I get up, walk to the door and slowly turn its handle. As I finally open it I discover, to my great astonishment, the Queen of Gondor on the landing. Her grey eyes shine in the half-light while the rest of her delicate face remains soft and peaceful. Her dark hair flows along her shoulders and her back, thus perfectly emphasis her pale complexion. The inhabitants of these lands call her _Undómiel_ , the evening star in quenya for it is said that no Edhel of this time can rivals her celestial beauty.

-''Good day Ithilann.''

-''My Queen.'' I say lowering my head as the Gondorians do in the presence of the Royals;

-''Do I disturb you?'' she asks me with sincerity;

-''N...no.'' I am disconcerted by her question: is she not entitled to disturb any person of her choosing without a care;

-''Have you settled well?'' she questions me once more;

-''Yes I thank you.'' I answer politely. How could it be otherwise? I have been received in a furnished room with a beautiful canopy bed, two garment chests on which we could sit down and a long silver candelabrum. The room was smaller than the one where I had slept before, however it had the benefit of offer me the opportunity to rest alone.

-''I am pleased yet, you did not go downstairs for breakfast.'' The Queen's voice low and soft resonates melodiously in my heart.

-''I was not hungry.'' Yesterday's events as well as the prospect of these aristocratic eyes fixed on me had created knot in my stomach.

-''I believe you were.'' she states without any doubt then goes on "No one can hold against a child the actions of his parents even less the circumstances of his birth. I have reflected about this yesterday, the errors of the past must not be repeated. You are my cousin, your place is here.'' I can barely contain my surprise:

-''I am may be the daughter of the noble Erestor but I have also a mortal mother without any title!'';

-''This war has told us that the simplest creatures -on the surface- can demonstrate the brightest courage, therefore values lies not only on the side of the nobleman and woman. Also, I am very lonely in the Citadel, will you keep me company every now and then?'' she argues;

-''I believe, still, that I am not the right person for this but I will be honoured.'' Certainly, I could refuse out of pride however my 'cousin' seems to be so sincere!

-''Very well, come to my table now.'' she says softly as she holds out her hand. With this invitation, we head toward the throne room where domestics have not removed the large dinner table yet. In this solemn place my stomach simply allows me to pick a few fruits. Queen Arwen eats as well –as if she wanted to incite me- while enquires about my life in Minas Tirith and Bree. I answer shortly, still affected by the situation. After some time, I dare to return some of her questions. It seems that the Queen was truthful, she has a lonely existence: her friends have headed towards Valinor, most of her family remains far away -Imladris-, and the kingdom takes her husband up most of the time. They are servants and Ladies of the Court but _Undómiel_ are still their Queen; it is hard to become friendly with anyone in that respect. Her modest melancholy moves me deeply. Once more I struggle to keep the tears at bay. I am so hypersensitive these days. Queen Arwen smiles weakly then interrupts my train of thought:

-''Now that we have established that you will remain here, you need much more garments.'';

-''What is wrong with this one?'' I say, inspecting myself. Since I could not find the time to take care of my 'archer' garment; I wear the clothes that I keep for the forge: a grey pants, a loose green shirt holds by a thin belt and boots whose colour is no longer definable. While this outfit cannot be possibly compared to the beautiful dress cut out of pale blue satin and white muslin that she currently wears, it suits me.

-''[she laughs discreetly] Nothing at all, nevertheless this garment is a better fit for Training Field than Court.'';

-''To be exact, it is destined to the forge;'' then, still puzzled ''but it does not matter, I think I am not maid to wear anything different. I am not like you my Queen.'';

-''Cousin Arwen please, no need for formality when the Court is away. For the rest, you are certainly not like me but you will be very elegant I am sure. '' she assures me;

-''I doubt that'' I object;

-''We will verify that immediately, I will introduce you to Rían-Ioreth, no one is more agile with a needle in Gondor.'' Before I have the chance to argue again or even thank the Queen, she goes on: ''One other thing Cousin Ithilann, could we speak sindarin or even quenya? I have no occasion to speak it now that my family is no longer there. There is my husband but it is not the same, it is not his mother tongue.'';

-''Sindarin is not my mother tongue strictly speaking, but I understand what you mean. As for quenya, my father did not teach me this language.'' I quickly explain;

-''What a shame!'' the Queen comments, ''would you want me to teach you?'';

-''Yes, with pleasure.'' I say with delight as I love to learn new things so much.

 _ **.**_

 _ ****Inkama**_

Planning at first some complex plans to reach the library of the Citadel in order to complete my research, I suddenly change my mind. I will only find there others stories of Valar, nothing that makes sense for me, at least for now. Instead I will travel to the Fangorn Forest since I cannot possibly go to the unattainable Valinor. There, I hope to meet old Ents with long memory, if not the creatures from my dreams. Therefore I quit the House of Healing for the Military House so I can talk with the Weapon Master to take my leave. Using the guilt of the later regarding his handyman's wrong doings, I obtain about approximately twenty days off. Before I leave for the mysterious Forest, I decide to visit Ithilann who must be in the Citadel. To achieve that, I perform a quick toilette and slip the Minas Tirith women's traditional garment on: namely a simple grey dress along with a dark veil. I ignore the drapery apron which reveals the profession and the social status of the citizen who wears it. By doing so, I notice a few flower petals and a letter signed by Arod on my mattress. After a long inner debate, I grasp the missive and throw it on the ground: despite my curiosity, no words of the young rohirrim can change my mind on the matter of our relationship.

A few times later I have reached the terrace of the Citadel enlivened by the gracious Tree of the King. There, I am remembering Master Gamgee's story: _''Before their death, Yavanna the Valië had created Galathion after Telperion but it was not the same: the tree was smaller and did not produce any light. I was told that after a few cuttings, the White Tree of the King had been obtained from Galathion.''_ Glancing at the guards, I give up the idea of touching the tree in order to solicit my gifts more easily. Perhaps will I obtain answers like this but how to find a way around the soldiers? As if in response to my question, wind drops off a few white flowers to my feet. I pick and squeeze it in my hands, opening my mind to past and future travels. Nothing happened...strange.

-''Haradrim, what are you doing here?'' the guard asks while raising his free hand to protect his eyes from the sun. ''Oh it's you !'' he finally recognises me

-''Of course it is me! Do you know many haradrims?'' I point out for shape;

-''N..no.'' He says feeling sheepish. I sigh and interrogate him:

-''Tell me, do you know where Ithilann is? I am not sure you have cross path with her. A little brunette with a strong personality, always dressed like a man.'';

-''Yes, I think she is here.'' He says designating the high tower;

-''Thanks you.'' Soon I enter the premises where I introduce myself to a domestic and reiterate my request. I wait patiently a few minutes when I am able to examine the place. It is a sober room chiselled out of a light rock where I can see neither pieces of furniture nor hanging. In fact, most of the space is occupied by a spiral staircase carved as gnarled and twisted roots. I have to admit that the ensemble is elegant even if Minas Tirith architecture lack of colour for my liking. Finaly, Ithilann is running down the staircase:

-''Inkama! You look well!" she exclaims then hugs me;

-''Not for long if you continue to squeeze me like this!'' I reply;

-''Pardon me, it is the joy to see you healthy.'' She defends herself;

-''Where can we talk in peace?'';

-''Waa you are so serious! Well, I know where.'' We take the staircase where we are crossing path with a tall blond elf. He slightly nods at us –half-heartedly, it seems- and we also greet him. Ithilann whisper some sindarin words, surely some politeness. However before he passes us, he threw my friend such a hard look. Quickly Ithilann stop our climbing to open a heavy oak door.

-''Have the nobles of this land not learn the rudiments of politeness?!'' I comment;

-''Poor Prince Legolas, circumstances force him to greet a bastard!'' she say with irony and bitterness;

-''Charming !'' And say elves believe they are superior to everyone else! They are hypocrites pointing fingers;

-''As you say.'' She replies with sadness. I turn around and throw me on the bed without further ado:

-''Oh Creative Mother I dream of a bed like this one! I can't take bunk bed anymore!'';

-''I understand! Adûn has the poor tendencies to get up at dawn!'' she says with emphasis while sitting beside me;

-''How is it that they let you wander here?'' It seems strange;

-''I slept here, at arm's reach you could say. At least there are no soldiers who are following me all the time.'' She explains frustrated;

-''So it is a golden cage.'' I summarize without putting a gloss on the facts;

-''A cage to which I have consented.'' Ithilann synthesises her earlier conversation with Queen Arwen. I am getting lost in my thoughts:

-''What are you thinking about?'' she interrupts me with curiosity;

-''I believe you are right: either she has manipulated you very cleverly so you consent to your cell; or she is looking for a friend to dispel her solitude; or even both.'' Ithil seems to meditate my words then ask me about the purpose of my coming here:

-''And you, what did you want to share with me?'';

-''I have decided to leave for a few days. I need some fresh air. All of this story with the tournament and even before. I need to go.'' I did not plan to express myself in that way but at least it seems natural. I could see panics, sadness and finally compassion flood across her face. ''I know that it is not a good time for you...''I begin before the young apprentice interrupts me:

-''Don't be silly! If you believe it might do some good so you must do it.'' She replies while a tear slides on her cheek; ''don't mind that [she points out her wet face] since my mind has imploded, my emotion are running wild.'' I feel guilty. She does not seem to deserve any of it. If only she knew the real reason of my departure!

 _ ****Ithilann**_

I turn around as I believe I have heard someone whispered, then in a more distinctive way: ''Tuntanyëlyë !'' or something like that. It is strange; I could not determine where it comes from.

-''What is it?'' my friend questions me with a worried face;

-''I do not know, have you heard something?'' I say as I focus on every sound;

-''No, only us.'' Inkama answers shortly;

-''So I must been dreaming. When are you leaving?'' I enquire suddenly;

-''Tomorrow morning.'' She says softly;

-''Oh ! today I have to work with Lord Elrond in order to partition my mind and as you can see, I really need it; but later we could spend some time together before your departure.'' I offer with hope;

-''Perfect, it will leave me some time to pack.'' she consents smiling;

-''So tonight.'' I confirm;

-''Tonight.'' She concludes before taking her leaves...

Later I went to the library of the Citadel to meet Hîr Elrond [Lord Elrond]. We took up yesterday training again and I believe I was already better at them –perhaps wrongly-. After hours of strenuous training, I was ready to question Lord Elrond regarding the power of my mind. The tournament still haunted me: all of these individuals fainted, the panics, the screams...For my ''uncle'', the gifts of my ancestors had come up to me. On the matter, he told me that the Maia Queen Melian –my great great great grandmother- placed a magical shield around her kingdom through the force of her own spirit. For my part, the strength of my capacities is yet to be determined. Understanding that the royal power did not wish to divulge the true reason of the last tournament incident, I obtained authorisation to meet the Blacksmith Master and the Weapon Master without being followed by soldiers at every turn. I had yet to explain my last absences and the one to come; when I cherished the crazy hope to pick up my life where I had left it. So I had pretended to have caught a strange disease which needed intensive cares and forbidden me great effort for now.

Later as I meet Inkama in the city –unfortunately with some soldiers near by-, we take a walk in the streets while we talk about everything and about anything. Inkama seems preoccupied; I sincerely hope that this journey bring her peace. She told me once that travels was sacred for haradrim, indeed they were considered like a displacement of body and mind. May this rite free her spirit.

 _ ****Inkama**_

Master Eothain has trusted me with Lôsteorra, his horse, in order for me to enjoy this little excursion. I am pleased because she is a beautiful grey mare with white spot, very gentle, whose I appreciate the company. As I do not wish to be noticed on the road, I leave my military and my traditional gondorian garments behind me for the benefit of travel clothes: a grey cloak, old boots and a tunic of brown leather, a pants and a think shirt cut out of a dark blue fabric. While I harness Master Eothain's horse, I heard a familiar voice:

-''Inkama you cannot leave!'' it made my blood boil. Does Arod really believe he can soften me with his words?

-''Really?! We will verify that immediately.'' I say while finishing the final preparations;

-''I mean I do not want you to.'' He corrects himself;

-''You think this changes everything?!'', as if he had just to express his wishes for me to change my plans! I ride Lôsteorra.

-''Please stay, we can still be together or at least find our way to each other'' he tries again blocking my path;

-''Lôsteorra will have to trample you, if you do not move out of my way.'' I assure him coldly;

-''Inkama! What can I possibly do to show you how sorry I am?'', his voice rises as the 'conversation' continues;

-''Move, I will not say it again!'' I command while the mare stamps, frustrated;

-''Inkama!'' he exclaims when Lôsteorra and myself finally manage to gallop away from him. ''Inkama!'' he screams once more but we are already too far…

I slow our pace beyond Minas Tirith; indeed a long journey awaits us, the mare must not wear herself out. Before me, miles of plains in which long thin grasses dry and brown grow. Looking for an escape out of this morose landscape, my mind leaps from one thought to another: the Luminous Trees, the Ents, the Valar, my dreams...

 _ ****Ithilann**_

-''How did your work with my dad went?'' the Queen enquires politely;

-''Good however doing the same exercise again and again is so frustrating, I do not feel like I am making progress.'' I answer with sincerity. Queen Arwen laughs softly ''what is it?'' I ask discountenanced;

-''No one has ever talk about my dad so casually!'' she answers with a smile;

-''Oh I did not mean to…''I begin mortified;

-''No, do not be embarrassed. I have already told you, there is no such thing between us. Your way of being is so refreshing.'' She explains serenely;

-''I don't know if it is a compliment.'' I say hesitant;

-''It is. Are you ready to learn quenya?'' she goes on craftily;

-''More than ever!'' I exclaim, relieved to move on to another subjects;

-''We will start with pronunciation.'' The Queen opens a recent book which already seems to have been well used. ''Look at this passage, it points out the comparison points between common speech and quenya.'' She continues while designating the book's table. ''Note that most of the time, quenya's vowel are only distinguishable by the presence of their accents –tree full stops for example- above the previous consonant.'';

-''As in sindarin except it is the next consonant.'' I note;

-''Exactly'' she confirms.

The lesson goes on with my discovery of the diphthong, the diaeresis and the consonants of this language. Gentle and patient, Queen Arwen seems to enjoy my teaching. I easily imagine her do the same thing with her future children. I was supposed to learn the lesson content for tomorrow.

 _ ****Inkama**_

 _Despite the heavy incense smoke stinging my eyes, I distinguish around me an assembly of adults. As my eyes accustom to this environment, I recognise the heart of the holy city temple. The torches unveil a fresco of gold and crimson recounting the Story of my Land through interplay between light and shadow. Their gleams give disturbing appearances to the Creative Couple statues that is guarding this temple. My attention is now focusing on my right hand because I feel a larger one squeeze it. My little child fingers hold onto the one of a familiar adult: my father! I am dreaming! I am so getting better at this! I notice that I am wearing a ceremonial costume: a deep blue fabric strip with complex copper patterns which encircle my chest, as a loose pants cut out of a light hessian bring a carmine touch, and finally arm cuff, ankle bracelet and a large golden necklace. While the Wises intone sacred chant; parents_ _–I think I know them_ _\- weep beside little inert forms covered with some nasty blankets. The little Inkama would_ _rather not identify '_ _what' is hidden behind but the adult understand it to well. I am looking for_ _something comforting in my father's eyes but...Even thought the child in me try to remain courageous, some tears_ _are able to find their way on my cheek. I recognize my given name in the Wises' litany, so do my father apparently: he leads me to the center of the assembly under the gaze of the elders. My heart is hammering in my chest; I start to panics and seriously plan to escape. The presence of my father by my side does not do a thing to calm my child heart. As if he could_ _guess my thoughts, he had tightened his grip on my hand and tells me, transported: '' Isamen koee shak nahin hai, nirmaata ne tumhen chuna hai. Usane mujhe svapn mein prakat kiya [Have no doubt, the Creator_ _has chosen you. She revealed it to me in a dream. –haradrim usual language-]'' Despite the terror which threatens to engulf me, I move toward the elders, alone, hoping to make him proud. The chants cease and an old man speaks:_

 _-''_ _Paktiyuḷḷa Inkama, nīṅkaḷ tērnteṭutta eṉpataiyum nīṅkaḷ aṟintu koḷḷalām? [Pious Inkama, do you want to know if you have been chosen?'' I learn much later the meaning of his question_ _._

 _-''_ _Āmām, nāṉ vēṇṭum... Nāṉ paṭaippāḷar jōṭi cantikka vēṇṭum. [_ _Yes I do…Yes I want to meet the Creative Couple.]'' I say with hesitation. I had to learn the sentence by heart in the old language of my country that I did not master at the time._

 _-''Paktiyuḷḷa Inkama uṅkaḷ viti cantitta! [Pious Inkama meet your destiny!]''_ _he concludes while gesturing me to lay down on the dark wood altar. With a few steps and the help of a Wise I comply. I almost faint as the chants start again and the incense become more overpowering. I grip the altar_ _, furrowing the wood with my nails to steady me. Through the adults' voice I perceive suspicious noises: whittlings, cracks...Next thing I know, two Wises pin me firmly against the altar and I try to free myself, completely panicked. Without any success. '' Pita! [Daddy ! –Inkama's mother tongue]'' Why is he not helping me? An old lady operates some mechanism in the wood and I feel a little trapdoor open under my belly. The disturbing noises are more vibrating while my mind recognises with horror the animal or more accurately the animals that produce it. ''Pita! [Daddy!_ _–haradrim usual language-_ _] Aahhh!''Why did he put me through this? Why? Hot tears are running down my cheek as the pain is radiating through my stomach and soon all my body. Snakes, awful snakes are biting me! The child in me is desperate, she feels alone, abandoned, victim of a great injustice. The trapdoor closes and it seems to me that my belly is swelling out of all proportion. Soon all my body is numb. I fight against it but the poison is too strong, my eyes close and I sink into an ocean of dread._

I wake up with a start. Lôsteorra glance at me in a doze then goes back to sleep. If only I could do the same! however with all the emotion that the dream has awaken in me I will not succeed right away. I would have rather not relive this old memory but something has decided otherwise. It took me one week to regain consciousness. That day I became the chosen child, the one for over sixty years and thereby join the _Cuvar._

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Queen Arwen and Ithilann get to know each other (Queen Arwen's theme)= Lord of the Rings Songs – The Grace of Undómiel ;

-Inkama from the House of Healing to the Citadel (Inkama's theme)= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack – Love in the Eyes;

-Inkama and Ithilann meet again (Inkama and Ithilann's theme)= Game of Thrones Season 2 Soundtrack – 5/Valar Morgulis;

-''I could see panics, sadness and finally compassion'' to -''Tomorrow morning.'' She says softly'', Ithilann's crumbling mind= Lord of the Rings Songs - Seduction of Aragorn;

-''Oh ! today I have to work with Lord Elrond'' to the end of Ithilann's POV, Ithilann and the House of Elrond= The Hobbit I Soundtrack – The Hidden Valley;

-Inkama and Arod have words, she leaves Minas Tirith= Game of Thrones Season 2 Soundtrack – 18/Mother of Dragons _(through I am not completely convicted for this soundtrack for this part)_ ;

-Queen Arwen's lesson= Lord of the Rings Songs – Welcome to Rivendell;

-Inkama's dream= Game of Thrones Season 2 Soundtrack – 3/The House of the Undying;

-the sacred chant of the Wises in Inkama's dream= Mangal Pandey Songs - Al Maddath Maula.

Author's notes:

Enjoy! I know less action but It will come in time, I promise!

Next chapter: _There will be no turning back_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

10


	9. There will be no turning back

_**Chapter 9-There will be no turning back**_

 _ ****Ithilann**_

As the week went by, Gandalf assured the minas-tirithian crowd under the approving gaze of the royal couple that a squall had bring pollen of magical flowers to the city. This unexpected phenomenon at this time of the year clarified the recent incident and will not happen again. This explanation suited me but I doubted it was elaborate to my sole benefice. As for my work with the Lord of Imladris, I practiced again and again the same exercises. Pacing up and down like a caged lion in the royal home, I was getting closed to my limits. To make matters worse, I was still hearing this nasty voice whispered: « Tuntanyëlyë » without me been able to identify where it came from. Although I did not utter a word about my distress, the noble Elrond allowed me to change my exercises at the end of the week. However, I truly succeeded to contain myself when they let me train again with the Weapon Master. There, Arod stared at me like he wanted to ask me something but lack the guts. Knowing what had transpired between Inkama and him, I did not do a thing to either encourage or discourage him: he had to decide by himself. From time to time I even went to the forge as I was beginning to miss my preceding home, even the growl of my old Master and the cleaning obsessions of Adûn. In the Citadel, I spent most of my time with Hîr Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] and Queen Arwen with whom I created a stronger bond every day.

My first Court garment was finally ready, more beautiful that I could have imagined I had to admit. It was an emerald dress cut out of a silky fabric. Its lines were sober, closed to my body apart from the petticoat slightly flared. It had a round collar, long sleeves and a silver lacing at the back. I was feeling comfortable, could move very freely contrary to when I was wearing my cousin's old garments. Although the design of the dress was very different to the ones the Court wore, she let me free to order this work of art. To complete my outfit Queen Arwen gave me her old diadem and a silver belt forged in the Imladris style as a gift. Tengwar characters were carved in the latest object: "Gwen Arata od Imladris" which meant Noble Maiden of Imladris in sindarin. I wanted to decline these gifts far too precious but a powerful emotion gripped me, I could just nod and embrace my cousin. Cursed be my broken mind! Finally I was all ready to brave the diners reserved to close friends and family members of the royal couple; if only I had knew then how much bored I would be. The conversations which flourished at these occasions were related to the reconstruction of Gondor, the political and the commercial opportunities newly opened to the kingdom. I stayed quiet. The King paid very little attention to me but did not seem hostile. I was grateful for that. As for Mithrandir, he seemed engrossed in conversation with King Elessar and Hîr Elrond [Lord Elrond -sindarin], however I suspected the old fox to discreetly observe the other guests. Hoping to carve out a place for me among her close circle, Queen Arwen tried to capture my attention with some small-talk of the Court: did some Lady not wear a beautiful rohirim garment today? Did I not notice that some other Lady had developed feelings for this Lord? I answered politely. Only the conversations with Master Gamgee and Master Gimli made me truly enthusiastic. The hobbit described with his storyteller's gift these last war ordeals while the Lord of Imladris' sons avidly listen; adding some lived experiences to the dark tale as well as Master Gimli. The later happen to be a true charmer beneath a gruff exterior unlike Ernil Legolas [Prince Legolas - sindarin] whose attitude remained cold toward me. One night Master Dwarf whispered to me: « Please ignore him; he is simply jealous of my success with women. » I burst out laughing. As for my two cousins, our bond became stronger the minute they discovered my passion for the art of war. They even wished to accompany to one of my training. This two was easy to live with, thoughtful in their own way, curious of everything and always annoying each other. Indeed, Elladan and Elrohir was very different from the others elves that I knew.

My quenyan lessons continued. I discovered personal pronouns and their complex use as well as some verbs with their two present conjugations –present and present aorist-. The more I was progressing in my teaching, the more I supposed that the strange voice spoke quenya, however I had to find out for sure:

-« What does ''Tuntanyëlyë'' or ''tauntanyëlyë'' mean or something like that? » I asked Queen Arwen pretending casualness;

-« The verb ''tunta'' conjugated in the present tense and the pronouns ''nyë'' and ''lyë'' mean ''I see you/I notice you/I perceive you.'' all of that in one quenyan verb. However ''taunta'' I could not tell. Why this question? » she replied astonished;

-« Oh I am just curious, yesterday I heard someone whispered this behind my door. » I answered without further explanation;

-« Strange, only a few speak this language in the Citadel. » my cousin pointed out confused;

-« Strange Indeed. » I admitted a bit worried before asking my cousin about some grammatical notion in order to change subject.

 _ ****Inkama**_

On the Great West Road the lugubrious grasses had given way to green stretches soon snaked by little streams and some touch of brown. A high mountain chain which peak remained covered by the snow bordered the landscape. Between Minas Tirith, the jewel of Gondor and the city of Edoras, the rohirim, there were no village, no inn or even way station: the war had swept all away. So I had to sleep under the stars for six nights. During my journey, my dream had retraced the course of my apprenticeship in the _Cuvar_ before I was send to the gondorian capital. And for the first time, my gift had followed a chorological pace. Was I on the right path? Did my destiny lead me to the Fangorn Forest? Despite the doubts my logical mind may voice and the knot in my stomach my instincts told me to go on. What will I find there?

Lost in my thought I reach Edoras at lunch time. Finally I will be able to eat at a table and rest in a real bed! The city perched on a hill was mostly build from dark wood. On the seigneurial houses, artistes had painted beautiful golden patterns made of complex and elegant interlacing. In addition to this, some sculptures representative of horse heads –emblem of this proud people- adorned a few roof. Despite myself, the physiognomy of the inhabitants reminds me of a certain someone. Indeed, they were very tall, blonds or redheads, their skin fair and their eyes almond shaped –but their forms was very different from the one of my ancestors like they were stretched-. At some point, I come across an old man who I hail in order to locate the city inn. He makes a gesture to indicate a path near us. There, I allow Lôsteorra to properly rest and regain strength while I have something to eat. I even take the time to meander in the city without any purpose before going back to my inn in the evening. For my greatest displeasure, it has becoming increasingly difficult to not think about Arod. Perhaps was I to harsh with him? I wish I could talk about this matter to Ithilann. Ithillann, another complex subject that I do not want to explore right now. A few hours later, I reach my bed -quite acceptable one for such establishment-... _Complete_ _darkness morphs into verdant landscape as if my eyes have adapted to a different kind of lightness. I find myself on a hill where two trees stand lonely. They are so large that I am hardly able to see them entirely. However, I cannot help but notice the strange property of their leaves: while one seems to release a powerful golden light; the other emits a_ _soft silver glow. In the distance, rugged mountains complete this enchanting landscape. How did I end up here? Where is_ _Lôsteorra? Oh Mother! It is again this heady dream!_ _Carried by the breath of air, two golden flowers are slowly deposited upon my hair. Yellow eyes appear into the trunk of the tree with golden light but this time I am prepared. I grasp without_ _hesitancy_ _the branch that reaches down to my level._ _Under my fingers wood and leaves transform themselves into a woman of flesh and blood. . The lady-tree thus formed firmly grasps me and said with intensity:_

 _-''_ _Nīṅkaḷ tērvu ceyyappaṭṭuḷḷaṉa! [You have been chosen!- ancient dialect haradrim]'';_

 _-«Eṉakku teriyum. [I am aware of that.] » I say as quietly as possible;_

 _-«Cariyāṉa.[Perfect.] » she states satisfied while releasing her grip. I conclude that it was the right answer and I dare to ask the question that obsesses me for so long:_

 _-« Nī yār? [Who are you?]»;_

 _-« Nīṅkaḷ eṉṉai yār eṉṟu niṉaikkiṟīrkaḷ? [Who do you think am I?] » she replies with sparkling eyes and enigmatic smile. Does she laughs at my expense? However I advance a hypothesis:_

 _-«Oru nīṇṭa kālamāka peṇ Ent. [A female Ent has long since been lost.] »_

 _-«Nāṉ eṉṟu? Nīṅkaḷ takutiyāṉavar eṉṟāl nīṅkaḷ aṟintu koḷvīrkaḷ. [Am I? You will know if you are worthy.] » she concludes irrevocably._

 _ ****Ithilann**_

My day began with breakfast and a meal as any other day prior. And to believe I thought that castle life was hectic! As for the afternoon, learning quenya with my patient cousin occupied me and I have yet to meet Hîr Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] later that day in the Citadel library.

As I wait for my next lesson, I am getting lost in the contemplation of the library roof where is represented the tree of the King.

-« Le fair an i 'elias 'wain lîn ? [Are you ready for your new lesson?] » the low voice of Hîr Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] interrupts my train of thought. In his pace, his elegant blue and gold garment melodiously brushes against the cold marble of the Citadel.

-« Naun ! [I am.] » I answer eager to start;

-«Polol annin i rinas ro'elir od i hênnas lîn anthad ? …Egor íd rinas gelir ? [Can you give me the happiest memory from your childhood?... or even a very happy one?] » The Lord of Imladris' request astonish me especially since his noble face remains impenetrable; however I comply after considerable reflexion –to find such gem is not an easy task-.

-«Mar nónen hên, im teliannen adh i hemmair vîn na i auth od i erthas medui [When I was a child, I played at the War of the Last Alliance with my neighbours.] » For many long seconds Hîr Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] seems doubtful, then gives me a look full of compassion.

Discomforted, I look away until my eyes fells on some blank papers, an inkwell and a quill left on a reading stand.

-« Se dîn. [It is a start.] » he finally concedes. Then the Lord of Imladris asks me to bring peace to my body as he taught me for one week. Indeed, I could only go to the place of my choice after completing this task. And it was so not easy. _After much effort, I finally visualize Bree several years before: half-timbered houses, streets randomly paved, frail fence intended for pigs and horses...I heard the laughter of children but the sound is still distant; I struggle to maintain the connection. Hîr Elrond[Lord Elrond – sindarin] stands by my side, the moon and the stars make his precious diadem shine. I gather that his presence is meant to be reassuring or something like that: «Dâfo sinâ rinas gelir anlen toled a chain tofn thad… Le_ _hên na Vrie, le… [Let this happy memory come to you and deepen...You are a child in Bree, you...]». Suddenly darkness without neither light nor end opens onto this beautiful starry night. Although I am a peredhel [half-elf –sindarin], I instinctively knew that the infinite sadness which has slowly taken root in my heart now infects my body –this time the one of a teenager- slowly leading it to death. Instead of ending this way, I have chosen to go to Amon Sûl –Weather Hills in Common Speech-, there, from the top of the ruins, my suffering will cease. It is well know that at the turning points of our life, we notice the smallest things or perhaps it seems small in comparison. And I distinctively remember telling myself that the Weather Hills bores his name well. Oh Eru! Another memory barges into my head! In my misfortune, Hîr Elond is still here, looking at me knowingly. How can I stop this?_

 _-« Man len nuitha o hinâ gwanath ?_ _[What is stopping you from ending this way?] » he asks me, his voice deep. Great! He has understood what I am up to here: I am mortified! How do I interrupt this? I answer him any way:_

 _-« Ni íd rûth. ú-boe enni i guil nîn annad... Sen Farn, ni menin ed Vrie [I am very angry. I do not have to give my life... I had enough, I am leaving Bree.] » In fact, it is what I had done that same night, choosing Minas Tirith as only destination._

 _-«Le Polol ledhed hî, genninoli boe anlen cened. Dadweno na Vrie, an i deilien hênnas lîn vi i raith dîn…. Man tûras ? [You can leave now; you have seen what you had to see. Go back to Bree, to your child play in its streets… who is victorious? » he assures me with a soothing voice while holding my hand. I close my eyes in this reality, letting me carried by his words and his gesture of encouragement. The sky regains his stars and my little neighbours heckle around me. The one named Harry rushes forward wooden sword lift in the air:_ « _I, Elendil, will not allow the Army of Sauron to prevail! Come on Ithilann, it's you turnnn! ». My heart swells with childish pleasure:_

 _-« Naun ! Ni naun len : Ni tegin maeth dan Sauron adh 'il-Galad !_ _[I am! I am you: I lead the battle against Sauron with Gil-Galad !] ». Swift as the wind, I follow the example of the young boy, my sword-stick in hand. I seem to hear the Lord of Imladris laughs quietly but I enjoy this game far too much to really care. « Oh ! and my father keeps some old boards in the outhouse, we could make some awesome shield ! » the young Bill exclaims._

 _-« Mar garol sinâ rinas, erio i charvo lîn. [When you have this memory, lift your right hand.] » I believe I have done just that but my hand feels strange like she is not completely my own._ _«Ma, plado hi in celaid o lŷn il, cenid il, pledais il, a noeth il ed hinâ rinas._ _Dâfo hain tofn thad, maeg len a vanno o chain. [Good, now feel the light of every sound, images, sensations and thoughts of this memory. Let them deepen, go throw you and nourish you.] The lights? Why elves always talk in riddle? I am ready to curse when I perceive weak glows from the things around me. I have the intuition that it is the mark that my mind had leave behind conceiving this scenery. Does Hîr Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] ask me to appropriate the memory again, to remember it? I take a chance...The rays intensify painfully and I try to absorb them._ Once done, the father of the Queen helped me regain consciousness and control over my body.

-« Boe anlen rinas hired athan chin. |You need to find a more powerful memory.]» the Lord of Imladris states for any summary of the sceance;

-« Nai.[May it be.] » I reply in one breath;

-« Dâfon len îdh núf i halphas lîn [I let you rest before supper.] » the noble Ñoldo grants me while standing;

-« Hannon Hîr Elrond ! [Thanks you Lord Elrond] » I nimbly thank him;

-« Iallo nin ''tôradar'' [Call me ''uncle'']. » the latest rectifies;

-« M…Ma… [G…Good…]» I answer as I feel caught off guard. As he leaves, my uncle lets his hand linger on my shoulder in a caring gesture.

I sigh, throwing my head backward, hoping to release some tensions however my pause is brief:

 _-_ « Tuntanyëlyë ! [I see you –quenya-]». Again this invisible stalker! Could he not find himself another victim? I probably should speak about him to my new 'family' but after my latest exploit in the arena; I do not want to be the cause of another complication especially as my situation has lately improved. Taking advantage of my latest knowledge in quenya, I try something:

-« Man ëalyë? [Who are you? –quenya-] »;

-« Nildo. [A friend–quenya-] ». Oh joy! Does he think I am stupid ! I say to myself:

-« Mana ten ? [For which reason? –quenya-] » I reply in broken quenya;

-« Samilyë maurë nildon. [You need a friend-] » I write his answer on the pages left behind which I noticed earlier and search ''maurë'' in a dictionary nearby. I translate his feeble attempt of friendship.

-«Massë ëalyë [Where are you?] » I try once more using a different approach;

-« Mir caslya [In your head.]» I recognise ''your head'' but I have to find the meaning of ''mir''. ''Charming!'' I say to myself as I discover the significance of the preposition. Am I going mad?

-«Hantëanyëlyë **lá**. Uanyë samë… maurë nildon. [ **No** Thanks. I do not… need a friend.] » I state as fear arises in my heart;

-« Cenuvalyë. [You will see!]. » he concludes arrogantly.

Suffice to say that I ate my dinner in silence that evening; I as well did not have the heart to go to the training field. The next day was equally gloomy.

 _ ****Inkama**_

The next day, as I gather new provisions for our travel towards Helm's Deep, the conclusion of my dream is tormenting me: what will I have to do to prove that I am worthy of this quest?! I still have nightmare with hideous snakes! In Edoras the innkeeper warned me: the road between the small city and Helm's Deep could be dangerous if I was not careful. Indeed the streams are getting deeper, they furtively digs the green plains spotted with brown. Furthermore, stretches and hills randomly succeed one another at midday. At last, as the sun is about to leave me, steep rocks grows on my path, monts are getting higher and cliffs blooms. Since I do not know this kingdom, I chose to bivouac on the spot instead of travelling at night. _I wake up slowly at the top of a high hill._ _Lôsteorra neighs as she wanted to greet me. A morning sun shines in the sky while a soft breeze caresses my cheeks. «Inkama !_ _saath !_ _[Inkama ! help !]». With horror I recognize the distressed voice of my father as well as the cry of a young child. Following the shouts, I rush toward a dangerous cliff. It seems not this close yesterday thought. My heart stops when I discover my father and an unknown little girl clinging desperately to the edge of the bluff:_

 _-«_ _Pitaajee achchhee rahatee hai yahaan main aa gaya! main ek rassee mil jaega! [Dad holds on, I'm coming! I will find a rope_ _!]»;_

 _-«_ _Main lai taimps dee nchurais bas: dee khilaune suvair lun naak divas !_ _[No you will not have the time; you have to save one of us_ _!] » He shouts;_

 _-« Pita ! [Dad !] » I exclaim in equal measure of frustration and despair;_

 _-«_ _Jaldee karo ! ham mein se ek ko bachaane ke lie ab ya ham donon mar jaate hain._ _[Hurry up_ _! Save one of us now or we will both die.] » My father commands;_

 _-« I will succeed. » I say perhaps more for myself than for them as I lie as close as I can get to the edge. Then I add for the young one with a calmer voice: « It's alright, take my hand! ». Despite her terror the child raises her free hand toward me. Her small clammy fingers slide between mine. For a better grasp, I tear a piece of my cloak with my teeth and wrap my hand with it. I lift with much effort her little body even thought she seemed frail. Due to my exertion or perhaps it is my emotional state, tears are sliding on my cheeks. « Aaarg ! »….I have finally succeed to haul the youngster out on dry land. «_ _Pitaajee achchha main aane rakhatee hai! [Dad holds on, I'm coming_ _!]» On my feet as quickly as humanly possible considering my trembling muscle, I run and literally throw me on the ground beside my father. I reach out my febrile hand however it is already too late:_

 _-«Haaaaaa ! » he screams as he fells to his death;_

 _-« Pitaaaaaaaa ! [Daaaaad!] » I yell powerless._ _I roll on my back while sobbing. An infinite sadness tears my heart down._

 _-« Why did you save me, you don't even know me? » the little girl articulates through her tears. 'I have to take care of that child now' I say to myself, 'It is not a place for children'. On that thought I gather my last strength to reach the youngster and wrap her petite form with my cloak:_

 _-« You are just a child, you could have not held for much longer. I had thought to have enough time to save my dad but…All is alright now, it is over, I will bring you back home. » The young one –a six years old maybe- stays quiet. She had pale complexion whith freckles, sad turquoise eyes, full lips, a very round nose, a chubby face and chestnut hair with red reflexions. The child wore a coarse dark dress held by a rough rope at her waist. She could be rohirrrim or gondorian?_

 _-« I am Inkama, what is your name. »;_

 _-« If you had left me, you could have saved your daddy! » the child insists while sniffling;_

 _-« Perhaps, perhaps not. At least I have saved you, which matters. » I reply as I struggle to keep the tears at bay;_

 _-« If Eru allows you to switch our lives, would you do it? » the young one persists;_

 _-« I would not! » I say now angry. While I believe I heard her whisper a soft « Good. », all went black;_ and that it when I perceived the panicked neigh of Lôsteorra. I abruptly open my eyes and get on my feet. Two men. One is trying to steal my mare while the other is searching my belongings just a few step from me. It is a good thing that my sabre never leaves my side. The closest man quickly stands up drawing a dagger.

-« I will not tell you twice: put my bag back and you, get off my horse. »;

-« And what will you do? Scream? ». I draw my sabre. « Wooo, put that down before you cut yourself. ». The man initiates a blade movement however I am better trained. My body avoids his attack and I slit his throat simultaneously. The other man perched on Lôsteorra panics and in his distress gives a sharp pull on her rein. That is too much for the mare; she kicks and in doing so evicts the brigand from her saddle. His face is reduced to a pulp when I come closer. Despite his body been broken by my mount's hoof, he raises a trembling hand toward me. I put him off his misery. Finally I can release the breath I was not aware holding back and sit down on the ground. I am still affected by the dream: would I have taken the same decision in realty? Surely there is the test that the Lady-Tree implied the last time we meet. Have I passed it? If so, at which price...My insides are in knots and my head spins. I try in vain to catch my breath and vomit on the grass.

Two hours later, I reach Helm's Deep. The fortress consisted of two dense walls curving around a dark mountain alongside a tall tower. The rampart concealed the royal domain carved on the very rock. Another wall extended from this structure to the next arm of the mountain. All of the edifices were made of grey/green stones. Hem's Deep has certainly not the elegance of Minas Tirith but the city is providing me and Lôsteorra a few hours rest after our adventure. Moreover I have the opportunity to renew provisions and make inquiries about our road. On the matter, an old rohirim advise me to leave the Great Weast Road in order to save at least a day's travel. The woman questions me about our strange destination and I explain to her that my beloved mother had such a fondness for the Forest of Fangorn that she wanted her ashes to be scatter there. It seems to satisfy the old lady. And yes! I am proud of my story!

I am leaving the hilly area of Helm's Deep to the great stretch of thin grass dried by the sun where survive there and then some poor green bush. After hours of travelling, I finally stop even thought I am forced to bivouac exposed once again! I do not like that especially since what has happened this morning. After some struggle, sleep comes to me. _Here I am on the edge of that cursed cliff once more. I stare at the river below, the view is vertiginous._

 _-«_ _Nīṅkaḷ uṅkaḷ matippu, nāṉ uṅkaḷiṭam iruntu enta kuṟaivāka etirpārkkappaṭukiṟatu kāṇappaṭum. [You have proved your worth_ _as I expected.] » The Lady-Tree! I raise my head and see her standing there, wearing black and golden brocade, majestic in her long close-fitting skirt and rib length bodice. A long blood red stole contrasts with the colour of her clothes, it travels along her left shoulder, her right hip and finish its hypnotic path on the ground. Now I am sure of it:_

 _-«_ _Atu oru cōtaṉai iruntatu. [_ _It was a test.] » I conclude sombrely;_

 _-«_ _Nāṉ nīṅkaḷ purintu koḷḷa vēṇṭum eṉpatil nāṉ uṟutiyāka irukkiṟēṉ. [I am sure you had understood_ _.] » she says with an enigmatic smile;_

 _-«_ _Āṉāl anta nērattil. [Not right then._ _] » I admit bitter;_

 _-«_ _Nīṅkaḷ eṉṉai veṟukka vēṇṭum, āṉāl inta avaciyam. [You must be angry with me, but all of this was necessary_ _.] » she explains laconically. 'Why entities always have to speak in a mysterious way?' I thought even so I lacked experience on the subject:_

 _-«_ _Cariyāka eṉṉa nōkkattiṟkāka oru tēvai?]? [A necessity for what purpose exactly?_ _] »_

 _-«_ _Nāṅkaḷ uṅkaḷukku vekumati taruvataṟku muṉpē ellā nēraṅkaḷilum. Nīṅkaḷ eṉṉa virumpukiṟīrkaḷ?... [Everything in its own time,_ _before we have to reward you. What is it that you heart desire?...] » I look at her not understanding her point, the Lady-Tree goes on while circling around me. The sound of her skirt against the grass makes me shudder. «_ _Nīṅkaḷ, ulaka paṟṟi ellaiyaṟṟa aṟivu, aṉaittu vīrarkaḷ valuvāṉa varukiṟatu, mika periya celvam peṟuvataṟku vēṇṭum eṉpatai tērvu ceyyalām uṅkaḷukku terinta makkaḷai pātukākka cakti vēṇṭum. [You can choose to posses infinite knowledge about the word, obtain great wealth, become the strongest warrior of this age, or have the power of protecting the people who matter to you_ _.] » How can she offer such things? Does she have that kind of power? My eyes open wild as I understand:_

 _-«_ _Nīṅkaḷ... Nīṅkaḷ, oru Ent illai nīṅkaḷ aṉṉai paṭaippāḷar irukkum!_ _! [You…you, you are not an Ent, you are the Creative Mother!] » I exclaim stumbling;_

 _-«_ _Uṅkaḷ viruppappaṭi eṉṉa irukkum? [What will be your choice_ _?] » she asks me imperturbable while a golden light seems to radiate from her. I get a grip on myself and gulp:_

 _-«_ _Nāṉ valuvākiviṭṭāl, nāṉ virumpum makkaḷaip pātukākka muṭiyum. [If I become stronger, I will be able to protect the people I love_ _.] »_

 _-«_ _Nīṅkaḷ putticāliyāka āṉāl nīṅkaḷ eppōtum avarkaḷuṭaṉ irukka muṭiyum illai, ēṉeṉil, nī eppōtum avarkaḷai pātukākka rājāvāka, āṉāl nīṅkaḷ inta tūram nīṅkaḷ aṉumatikka vēṇṭum eṉṟu oru cakti peṟa muṭiyum. Nīṅkaḷ oru iraṇṭu paricukaḷai maṟaikka muyaṟci muṉ, aṉaivarukkum taṉṉai taṉippaṭṭa maṟṟum matippumikka eṉṟu eṉakku teriyum. [You are smart but no, you will not be able to protect them all the time because you will not be always with them, however you can obtain a power which allows you that remotely. Before you try to hedge two gifts with one, know that each of them is unique and precious in itself_ _.] »_

 _-«_ _Inta maṟṟoru cōtaṉai illai eṉṟu eppaṭi teriyum? [How can I know that it is not another test?_ _] » I suspiciously reply;_

 _-«_ _Nīṅkaḷ atiṉāl nīṅkaḷ tērnteṭutta peṟa māṭṭēṉ eṉṟu eṉakku teriyātu._ _[You will not know until you decided.] » she coldly reasons_ _._ _I think carefully about it and give her my answer:_

 _-«_ _Piṟaku atu eṉakku mukkiyam makkaḷ pātukākka cakti kiṭaikkum_ _[In that case I chose to obtain the power of protecting people who matter to me.] » Her eyes shine and her light become more burning than before:_

 _-«_ _Nīṅkaḷ colvatu caritāṉ, atu oru cōtaṉai. Nāṉ uṉṉai aṉumatikka muṭiyātu āṉāl ippōtu nāṉ uṉṉai nampa muṭiyum. Eṉ piḷḷaikaḷ eṉ kuḻantaikaḷaip pātukāppataṟkāṉa paṇiyait tērnteṭuttirukkiṟārkaḷ, ippōtu nāṉ uṉṉait tērnteṭuttēṉ..._ _[You were right, it was a test. I cannot grant you that but from now on I can trust you. Your people have chosen you for the task of protecting my children and now I chose you...]». The ground seems to shake under our feet unless I am in a state of shock? The Creative Mother stares right at me and questions: «_ _Nīṅkaḷ?_ _[And you?] »;_

 _-«_ _Eṉṉai?_ _[And me?] » I say muddled. She firmly grasps my forearm while her eyes shine like molten gold to ask me certainly the most important question of my life:_

 _-«_ _Inta pātai tērvu? Nīṅkaḷ eṉ etirkāla kuḻantaikaḷ uṟuti vaḷara muṟai tirumpi irukkum, ēṉeṉil. Poruṭpaṭuttāmal kāṭṭikkoṭuppu, vali, tuṉpam, taṉimai avaṟṟuṭaṉ iṇaikkappaṭṭa irukka vēṇṭum maṟṟum avarkaḷ nīṅkaḷ iṇaikkappaṭṭa vēṇṭum eṉṟu. Patilukku enta avamāṉam ippōtu vīṭṭiṟku uḷḷatu. Āṉāl nīṅkaḷ eṉ kuḻantaikaḷ tērvu ceytāl, nīṅkaḷ uṅkaḷ vāḻkkaiyil nīṅkaḷ kāppāṟṟuvīr eṉṟu nīṅkaḷ uḷḷattil eppōtum taṅkaḷ nalaṉkaḷai vēṇṭum eṉṟu uṅkaḷ aṉpukkuriyavarkaḷiṉ anta mītu cattiyam ceytu tara vēṇṭum. Atu illai eṉṟāl, nāṉ nīṅkaḷ anta cattiyattai kāppāṟṟa ferrai cattiyam ceykiṉṟēṉ._ _[Will you chose this path? because there will be no turning back once you will be committed to my future children. Whatever the betrayals, the pains, the loneliness, you will be bound to them and them to you. There is no shame in going back home now. However if you chose my children, you must promise on your life and the life of the one you love that you will protect them and have their bests interests in mind. If not, I swear I will make you kept your promise. ] » In my country we know that a chosen one is ''designated'' roughly every sixty year. Since time immemorial, how many of them have come back from this quest? Surely numerous haradrim have not succeeded the Creative Mother's tests, so what have they become? I do not recall hearing about chosen one coming home after failing. I believe we can agree on the fact that my destiny is not really enviable but it is my own._

 _-«_ _Nāṉ avarkaḷai tērvu._ _[I chose them.] » I state sealing my fate._

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Introduction to Ithilann's life in Minas Tirith= Lord of the rings Soundtrack - The great eye;

-Ithilann receives her first aristocratic gown= Lord of the rings Songs - Evenstar;

-Ithilann's life in Minas Tirith (the Court diners)= Lord of the rings Soundtrack - The great eye (from the beginning);

-Ithilann's quenyan lesson= Lord of the rings Songs - Aniron;

-Inkama on the Great West Road= Lord of the rings Songs – Burning of the Westfold;

-Inkama reaches Edoras= Lord of the rings Soundtrack – Edoras;

-Inkama's first dream= Claymore Soundtrack - Kanashiki Shukumei;

-Ithilann's life in Minas Tirith= Lord of the rings Soundtrack - The great eye (from the beginning);

-Ithilann's session with Lord Elrond= Lord of the rings Songs – the Story Fortold;

Ithilann speaks with a 'friend' in her head= Lord of the rings Songs – Galadriel's Mirror;

-Inkama takes the road toward Helm's Deep= Lord of the rings Soundtrack – Refuge of Helm's Deep;

-Inkama's second dream part 1 (Inkama tries to save two lives)= Game of thrones season 6 Soundtrack – Bastard;

-Inkama's second dream part 2 (Inkama's father dies, end of the dream)= Lord of the rings Songs – Gandalf has fallen;

-Inkama fights against the brigand (Inkama's theme)= Game of thrones season 1 Soundtrack – Love in the eyes;

-Inkama reaches Helm's Deep= Lord of the rings Soundtrack – Théoden King;

-Inkama takes the road toward the Forest of Fangorn= Lord of the rings Soundtrack – Night Camp;

-Inkama's last dream part 1- Game of thrones season 2 Soundtrack – House of Undying;

-Inkama's last dream part 2 (Inkama understands that the Lady-Tree is the Creative Mother)- Game of thrones season 3 Soundtrack – Mhysa.

Author's notes:

I know I did not publish for a long time, but I have chosen to give you a longer chapter this time! I hope you like it! Moreover I have notice that some corrections (about the layout) had made on old chapters has disappeared, I do not know why! But I will fix the problem.

On other matter, I imagined Inkama to look like a young Jennifer Lopez with darker hair, the Lady-Tree looks like Madhuri Dixit, and the young child from Inkama's dream looks like a very young Anna Popplewell.

Next chapter: _The Eldest_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

13


	10. The Elder

_**Chapter 10- The Elder**_

 _ ****Inkama**_

Gloomy plains dried by the burning rays of the sun for more than two days! Suffice to say that I was happy to reach my destination at the end of this tedious travel during which I had only simple dreams. However, near the wood Lôsteorra neighs vigorously and brusquely changes our route. I try to balance myself then modify our trajectory; without any success. Certainly I could have chosen to bivouac outside of the forest to avoid a night exploration but I have the feeling that I have to do this now. So I dismount while keeping the reins in my hand: « Do not worry, all will be alright. ». The mare stops her struggle but gives me an accusing neigh « You are right, it is a lie. I do not know what awaits there; I am as scared as you are. I told myself that we could rely on each other in this adventure? ». Lôsteorra neighs again « Ok stay here » I say while tidying her reins to a tree in front of us « Don't feel guilty if I die. ». 'I have to admit that this ancient forest is not very welcoming.' I thought while I enter the premises. Fangorn is so opaque that the light of the moon and the stars shine little through it; however I can decipher some old twisted trucks, a rough ground, and silence...only the sound of my boots against the moss, the twigs and the stones...I shiver unconsciously. « Is there someone? » I say my hand on my sabre's guard. I glance at a thick truck covered by moss expecting that it comes to life from one second to the other but it did not. « My name is Inkama daughter of Thêvan, member of the _Cuvar._ I have been chosen by the Creative Mother. » I state to anyone who is willing to listen, feeling stupid. However cracks, grinding noises and humming answer my call. In order to be prepared for any eventuality, I translate my introduction in the old haradrim language: « Eṉ peyar Inkama makaḷ Thêvan, Cuvar oru uṟuppiṉar. Nāṉ am'mā paṭaippāḷar mūlam tērvu ceyyappaṭṭār. » A few seconds later, heavy steps are pounding the ground. While vibrations are getting stronger, I look upon...an Ent. I cannot describe it or him except talking about a slender tree with brown-yellow bark and oval green leaves though it is not a tree but an Ent. No old book illustration could have prepared me for that. In accordance with what I have read in Mardil's manuscript, it seems useless to draw my sabre. The only weapon that I have left now is my mind.

-« What are you? You, who is disturbing the peace of this forest.» The Ent harshly questions me;

-« I am a woman of Harrad. » I state with more insurance than I feel;

-« A Man... » the creature begins while inspecting me with his yellow eyes very closely.

-« Indeed. I am Inkama, daughter of Thêvan.» I confirm;

-« Ah! You can call me Fladrif, it falls to me to lead you to the Elder. » the old Ent growls, then adds: « She awaits you. »

-« She ? A She-Ent awaits me? I thought they were lost. » I ask with curiosity;

-«You ask too much question and I do not like talking to Men. » Fladrif rebuffs me before lifting me off the floor without any effort. The bad temper of the Ents is no legend. Despite his harsh words, the creature does not try to harm me: his prehension is gentle. Settled that way, we are going deeper in the forest and I refrain from asking him about this 'Elder' given his mood, however my mind can stop making assumptions: 1/I am about to meet the Elder of Ents; 2/I am about to meet the Creative Mother, the Elder of every living creature except the Creative Father and the Chaos.

Finally Fladrif drops me off. I hear him going away but I cannot see as I am dazzle by a bright light. While the rays decrease, I see the Creative Mother which confirms my number two theory. She is wearing black, red and gold as in my latest dream. Her noble face is turn toward me. I respectfully bow: it is one thing to meet her in my dream, another entirely to be in her presence. Raising my head, I clearly see her majestically standing on a rock lined by trees like a queen surrounding by her Court. The feeble night lights reveal a nature which has suffer from heat...except for the trees perhaps too far away. .

-« Iṟutiyāka, nām eṉ kuḻantai eṅkaḷ carīra uṟaikaḷ cantikka. [Finally we meet in our envelop of flesh my child.- old haradrim language] » The voice of the Creative Mother strangely echoes around me;

-« Iṟutiyāka. [Finally. - old haradrim language] » I say surprised that my voice is so clear in front of _her_!

-« Nīṅkaḷ piṉpaṟṟa vēṇṭum eṉṉa tayārā? [Are you ready for what is coming? - old haradrim language] » She asks with softness;

-« Nāṉ eppaṭi tayārāka irukka muṭiyum, eṉakku eṉṉa kāttirukkiṟatu eṉṟu eṉakku teriyātu. [How can I possibly be ready, I do not know what is awaiting me - old haradrim language] » I reason without taking account of the status of my interlocutor. I have to get a grip on myself.

-« Nalla patil. [Good Answer. - old haradrim language] » She replies as she seems amused by my audacity then her face finds her usual presence « Uṉṉuṭaiya vākkuṟuti ñāpakam irukkiṟatā? [Do you remember your promise? - old haradrim language] »;

-« Eṉ vāḻkkaiyil cattiyam maṟṟum uṅkaḷ kuḻantaikaḷai pātukākka maṟṟum uḷḷattil eppōtum taṅkaḷ nalaṉkaḷai vēṇṭum eṉ aṉpukkuriyavarkaḷiṉ anta. Inta viṣayam kāṭṭik koṭuppukkaḷ, vali, tuṉpam, etirkālattil eṉṉuṭaiyatu tāṉ eṉṟu taṉimai. [I promise on my life and the life of the one I love to protect your children and have their best interests in mind. This is in spite of the betrayals, the pains, the loneliness which will be mine in future. - old haradrim language] »

I recite while measuring my commitment. The Creative Mother rewards me with a « Cari. [Good. - old haradrim language] » however before going further I have to know a few things:

-« Nāṉ uṅkaḷai oru kēḷvi kēṭkalāmā? [May I ask you something? - old haradrim language] »;

-« Nīṅkaḷ enta illāmal iruntiruntāl, nāṉ caṟṟē ēmāṟṟam iruntirukkum... [If you had not questions, I will be somewhat…disappointed - old haradrim language] » she answers her eyes shining;

-« Nāṉ avvāṟu ceytāl nāṉ maṟuparicīlaṉai ceyvēṉ: Ēṉ... Ēṉ? [I would be remiss if I do so there it is: why...why me? - old haradrim language] » If I had to die for this cause at least I wanted to know why I had been designated.

-« Nāṉ nīṅkaḷ atika nampikkai eṉṟu niṉaittēṉ. Cari, nīṅkaḷ terintu koḷḷa vēṇṭum eṉṉa eṉṟāl: Nīṅkaḷ cīraṟṟa tērvu illai teriyum eṉpatāl, nīṅkaḷ mūṉṟu cōtaṉaikaḷai kaṭantu iruntatu... [I thought you had more self-confidence. Well, if it is what you wanted to know: as you know you have not been chosen randomly, you had to succeed three tests... - old haradrim language] » the Creative Mother begins;

-« Kuḻantaikku pāmpukaḷ kaṭittāl nāṉ uyir piḻaikka vēṇṭum. Itu mutal cōtaṉai. Iraṇṭāvatu, nāṉ oru anniyaṉ kāppāṟṟa vēṇṭum, ellāvaṟṟiṟkum mēlāka oru kuḻantai maṟṟum eṉ tantai tiyākam... [I had to survive being bitten by snakes as a child. It was the first test. For the second, I had to save a stranger, a child above all and sacrifice my father... - old haradrim language] » As I evoke the dream, I feel sadness in my heart and tears are near. I clear my voice and go on with my reasoning: « Mūṉṟāvatāka, nāṉ eṉṉai viṭa nāṉ niṉaikkiṟēṉ māṟāka maṟṟavarkaḷ tērnteṭukka vēṇṭiyiruntatu. [And finally for the third I had to choose between other and myself I suppose - old haradrim language] »

-« Inta tulliyamāṉatu. Nīṅkaḷ aṉaittu veṟṟikaramāṉa niṉaikkiṟīrkaḷā? [True. Do you think that everyone of them has succeeded? » the Creative Mother asks but expects no answer from me, « Nīṅkaḷ inta cōtaṉaikaḷiṉ pōtu demontrais, tiṟamai eṉṟu colluṅkaḷ? [Tell me which skill you showed during this tests? - old haradrim language] » she continues;

-« Mutal cōtaṉai uṭal maṟṟum maṉa etirppu paṟṟi iruntatu, atu eḷitāṉatu. Mūṉṟāvatu... Nāṉ paḻaimaivātam colkiṟēṉ āṉāl iraṇṭāvatu, patil kaṇṭupiṭikka mikavum kaṭiṉamāka uḷḷatu. Inta tiyākattiṉ arttattaip paṟṟi nāṉ niṉaikkiṟēṉ. Nāṉ oru kuḻantaiyai kāppāṟṟuvataṟkāka eṉ tantaiyai tiyākam ceyya vēṇṭiyiruntatu. Avaḷ oruvēḷai uṅkaḷuṭaiya piḷḷaikaḷaip piratinitittuvappaṭuttiṉāḷ. [The first ordeal was about physical and mental resistance, it is easy. The third...I will say altruism but for the second, the answer is more difficult to find. I think this is about the meaning of sacrifice. I mean I had to sacrifice my father in order to save a child. She perhaps even represented your children. - old haradrim language] » I say scrutinizing her face in order to determine if I am on the right track. Of course her face remains impassive.

-« Ciṟanta, eṉ nōkkam paranta eṉṟu tavira: Nāṉ terintu koḷḷa vēṇṭum, allatu māṟāka nāṉ nīṅkaḷ aṟiyappaṭāta aṟiyappaṭukiṟatu tiyākam ceyya muṭintatu eṉṟāl nīṅkaḷ terintu koḷḷa virumpiṉār. [Excellent, with the exception that my aim was broader: I wish to know or more accurately I wish you to know that you could sacrifice the know for the unknown - old haradrim language] » The Creative Mother gives me time to reflect on her words; it allows me to address hotter topics:

-« Nāṉ nīṅkaḷ iraṇṭu iṟuti kēḷvikaḷ kēṭkalāmā? [May I ask you last two questions? - old haradrim language] »;

-« Kaṭanta iraṇṭu nām ceyya atika ēṉeṉil. [Last two because we have a lot to do. - old haradrim language] » she grants me with indulgence;

-« Tavaṟiyavarkaḷukku eṉṉa naṭantatu? [What has happened to those who have not succeeded? - old haradrim language] » I am so tense that my own voice seems foreign;

-« Atai nīṅkaḷ etaiyum māṟṟa uḷḷatā? [Will it change anything for you? - old haradrim language] » she harshly replies;

-« Illai, nāṉ appaṭi niṉaikkavillai. [No, I do not think so. - old haradrim language] » I confess almost inaudibly;

-« Cila nīṅkaḷ kāttirukka eṉṟu, maṟṟavarkaḷ ituvarai varavillai vēṭṭaiyil iṟantār. Avarkaḷ maṟati virumpiya. [Some have died during the quest that awaits you; other does not reach this point. They have wished oblivion. - old haradrim language] » the Creative Mother answers with softer voice then adds: « Uṅkaḷ kaṭaici kēḷvi eṉṉavāka irukkum? [What will be your last question? - old haradrim language] »;

-« Ithilann paṟṟi, nāṉ uṇmaiyil vēṇṭum... [Concerning Ithilann, do I have really to... - old haradrim language] » this time I cannot resolve myself to finish my sentence. If only she could confirm that the Wises of Harad are mistaken once more. Oh Mother have mercy!

-« Uṅkaḷ eriyum kēḷvi itu illai?! Inta payaṇattiliruntu nī eṉṉa takkavaittuk koḷḷa muṭiyum? [There is your burning question it is not?! Tell me what could you retain from this journey? - old haradrim language] » When I really need an answer, it seems that I am about to hear more charades...Great!

-« Eṉakku teriyātu... Nāṉ tērnteṭukkappaṭṭavaṉ, uṅkaḷ kuḻantaikaḷai pātukākka eṉ poṟuppu. [I don't know…I am the chosen one, it is my responsibility to protect your children. - old haradrim language] » I say while my weariness faintly peak trough my voice;

-« Valatu. [Exact. - old haradrim language] » she confirms as is all had already been said;

-« Eṉakku puriyavillai... [I do not understand... - old haradrim language] » I comment hesitant;

-« Nīṅkaḷ, oru nāḷ. Ippōtu, uṅkaḷ kaṭamaiyai niṟaivēṟṟum poruṭṭu, uṅkaḷ piḷḷaikaḷāl uṅkaḷ aṉpaḷippuṭaṉ eṉṉiṭamiruntu eṭukkappaṭṭatai nīṅkaḷ pārkka vēṇṭum. Eṉiṉum nīṅkaḷ eṉṉaip paṭikka iṉṉum palamāka illai. Muṉṉāl nī eṉ neruppiliruntu vaḷara vēṇṭum. Veṭka paṭātē; kavur eppaṭi uṅkaḷukku kaṟṟuk koṭuttār eṉṟu eṉakkut teriyum. [You will, one day. Now, in order to fulfil your duty you must see how my children have been taken from me with your gift. However you are not strong enough yet to read me. Formerly you must nourish from my fire. Do not be shy; I know that the _Cuvar_ has taught you how. - old haradrim language] » she says while gesturing me to climb on her rock. I let myself be guided and softly hold her hands. « Ahhh ! » : The burning sensation is so strong that I have to release them instantly; however my hands are intact. I repeat the operation holding this time just one of her hands. The pain is overwhelming...my entire body is shaking...I struggle to formulate coherent thoughts...the pain...let go...hold...burn alive...it fades away...yes! The more I nourish myself the more the pain weakens...but not as quicker as I wanted...« Oṉṟu tuṣpirayōkam ceyyātīrkaḷ. [Do not abuse this either.] » the Creative Mother interrupts me, « Nallatu, ippoḻutu eṉ kaṭantakāla kuḻantaikku ṭaiv. [Good, now dive into my past child. - old haradrim language] »

* * *

 _Once again I find myself on these familiar hills where I had met for the first time in my dream the Creative Mother. When I use my gift, images come to me with more or less details; however this time I am literally thrown to the place of the memory. In front of me the creatures that North Men call Laurelin –with golden rays- and Telperion –with silver rays- stand proudly. As for me, Laurelin is in fact the incarnation of the Creative Mother. That being said, what about_ _Telperion_ _? Is he an incarnation of the Creative Father? I do not have the time to linger on this_ _thought since height elves are coming dangerously close to me. I cannot help but hold my breath even thought I know they can perceive me._

 _-« Vanima! » one of the ageless creatures exclaims in an unknown language. He is wearing luxurious clothes stamp by a strange symbol –a star producing some sort of warm rays-, a sword with a well wrought pommel and a small dark golden crown. Ithilann told me that they are numerous clans among elves and as many royal dynasties. Surely he is some kinglet. He has long brown hair, a lengthened pallid face, a straight nose, thin lips and small light eyes sunken in his sockets emphasised by slight shadows under them and very well drawn eyebrows. I could not say he was lacking grace but something about him was...disturbing._

 _-«_ _Nāṉ anta moḻiyil pēca vēṇṭām. [_ _I do not speak this language. -_ _old haradrim language_ _] » I say out loud hoping that one way or another the Creative Mother hear me;_

 _-«_ _Eṉ maṉatil oru taṭṭuvataṉ. [Use my knowledge_ _. -_ _old haradrim language_ _] » she answers without being heard by the protagonists of this memory and I try to do as I am told even thought I do not know exactly how._

 _-«_ _Ná Atar, ëas valima ! [You are right Father, they are magnificent_ _!] » another elf with brown hair -who resembles the kinglet- admits. I succeed! It is so strange to be able to understand a language that I know nothing about!_

 _-«_ _á yétal ! Manyel yáva_ _yáva_ _r. [Look! the female carries fruits._ _] » an elf looking like the former ones as well except for the silver colour of his hair underlines. While they talk, the Edhill –as this people called themselves- are coming closer, circling ''Laurelin'' and Telperion. The father's eyes reflecting a rare intelligence are focused on a spot near me._

 _-«_ _írimë_ _yáva_ _r_ _neldë_ _sinë_ _kúlpar sinwavë ivrini erdi [These three beautiful fruits contain surely fertile stones_ _.] » the kinglet adds, his voice hoarse and languishing as a snake undulating on shingle. That is when yellow eyes have appeared into the truck of_ _Telperion_ _while his mouth is grown hollow:_

 _-« Mana_ _Fëanáro,_ _Cundu_ _Noldoron_ _méra ?_ _[What do you want Fëanor, Prince of Noldor?] » I seem to recall that Noldor are a people of elves living in Rivendell under the authority of Lord Elrond; at least for those who remains in Middle Earth. As for this Prince Fëanor, –who is not a king apparently-his name is not unknown to me however I cannot exactly recall where I have heard about him. In a few words the annoyance of the luminous tree leaks out and I have a bad feeling about this._

 _-« Mérarlvë tatallatalmë. [To admire you.] » a redhead elf answers who was quiet until now. As soon as he says this, the Edhill chain the ''Trees'' with a tie that produces a strange purple glow. ''_ _Laurelin_ '' _and_ _Telperion_ _writhe in pain and I witness their falls powerless._

 _-« Nāṉ avarkaḷ nīṅkaḷ cariyāṉa Am'mā Paṭaippāḷar iruntirukkum kuṭṭiccāttāṉkaḷ eppaṭi eḷiya puriyavillai? [I do not understand how simple elves could defeat you Creative Mother?] » I ask out loud in the old haradim language while the impact of such fall still reverberates deeply in these lands._

 _-« Avar cutantarikkappōkiṟa kūṭātu ētāvatu iruntatu. [They had an object they were not supposed to have. - old haradrim language] » the Creative Mother explains darkly._ _As the tremor comes to an end, two of the elves climb nimbly on Laurelin and tear her three fruits away from her, their hearts deaf to her sobs or her screams. The scene is so dreadful that I have to look away, so my eyes falls upon the_ _Prince of Noldor who is busy pouring a sticky liquid around the ''Trees''._

 _-«_ _á anta sí_ _híni_ _ya_ _nin_ _var maluvanyëldë ! riptuvanyëldë !_ _hóciruva_ _nyëlya_ _hónilma ! vestëa_ _nyë_ _sinë,_ _vestëa_ _nyë_ _sinë… [Give me my children right now or I will squash you! I will eviscerate you! I will rip your heart out! I promise, I promise_ _…] » As Telperion threaten his voice which reflects his anger and his distress dies on the latest syllables;_

 _-« A nanwenë_ _híni_ _ya !_ _hyamanyëldë! antuvanyëldë ilqua haryëanyë, apa ala_ _híni_ _ya_ _! [Give me my children back I beg you! I will give you all that I have, but not my children! » the Creative Mother pleads while the Edhill take flight. Once they reach Prince Fëanor, he knocks two stones together and a spark sets ablaze the strange liquid on the ground so a wall of fire erects, trapping the ''trees'' inside._

 _-« Nai_ _hútuva_ _nyëldë._ _lyë_ _and yondorlya._ _Nai nauva coiviërlma er nwalma and_ _eri niër. Nai uan samëlmë_ _híni. Nai uar estuvar essilma_ _ló_ _véra_ _has_ _nórën._ _[Be cursed. You and your sons. Be it that your lives remain pain and tears. Be it that you have no descendants. Be it that your names are kept quiet by your own people_ _.] » Telperion roars as he is still tied up to Laurelin whose sobs are increasing; and soon these cruel elves disappeared into the dark of this endless night. My heart broke. 'No one has come to help them?' I ask myself as interminable minutes elapse...I wish I could flee this awful memory but I am powerless. While I am still hearing the painful moan of the two ''Trees'', I perceive two faces through the flames: a man of mature age and...the Creative Mother? What is...?:_

 _-«_ _Avar nīṅkaḷ varukiṟatu? Nāṉ nī'' Laurelin'' eṉṟu niṉaittēṉ... [Is it you? I think you were_ _''Laurelin''…_ _\- old haradrim language]_ _»;_

 _-«_ _Atu nāṉ illai, anta nērattil, atu Arien iruntatu. '' Peṇcūriyaoḷi'' eṅkaḷ moḻiyil. Eṉ mutal tōṟṟattai Laurelin eṉṟu..._ _Nīṅkaḷ piṉṉar ēṉ teriyum. [In those days it wasn't me, it was Arien. ''MaidenofSunlight'' in our language. My first appearance is the one of Laurelin…You will know why later. - old haradrim language] » the Creative Mother answers. Arien, there is a name I cannot forget. It seems she is not a simple invention by North Men but actually exists...:_

 _-«_ _Arien... Nām oru uṭaṉpaṭikkai ceytu malarkaḷ pārkka vicittiramāṉa oppaṭaittār? [_ _Arien… the one to whom the surveillance of your flowers was entrusted?_ _\- old haradrim language] »;_

 _-«_ _Vēṭikkai yōcaṉai, nīṅkaḷ eṉṟu yār coṉṉatu? [Strange idea. Who has told you this?! - old haradrim language] »the Creative Mother replies;_ _-«_ _Oru hāpiṭ. [_ _A hobbit._ _\- old haradrim language] »_ _I say simply;_

 _-«_ _Ham, kiriyēṭṭiv tantaiyaip pātukāppataṟkāka avar cattiyam ceyyavillai, nāṉum eṅkaḷ piḷḷaikaḷum. [_ _Hum, no she swore to protect the Creative Father, me and our children._ _\- old haradrim language] »the Creative Mother clarifies. I guess that is what happens to a true story after many years. While I ask these specifications to the Creative Mother, in this time Arien undresses then goes through the wall of fire without being hurt. There, she rushes to the two giants and tries to untie them._

 _-« Massë néstë ?! [Where were you?!] » Telperion interrogates them, his tone accusatory;_

 _-« Utúliënyë allimbë nai_ _pollë_ _nyë. [I have came as fast as I could.]_ _» Arien answers nervously;_

 _-«_ _Násë_ _máravalta, lenwetëalyëmmë sinomë and autëalyë sin. Fëanáro, leuca sina !,_ _amápië_ _híni_ _ya_ _nin as yondoryanen otso. á hirëltë silumë cé mera avatyarnesalëmma. [It is useless, leave us here and go already._ _Fëanor, this snake! has taken my children with the help of his seven sons. Find them now if you want our forgiveness.] » The Creative Mother's voice is harsh but who can judge her? Arien stands up swiftly and chases after them, her companion in her wake._

 _-«_ _Avarkaḷ kaṇṭu viṭṭaṉarā? [Did they find them?_ _-_ _old haradrim language] » I ask finally;_

 _-_ _«_ _Illai, atu eḷiya illai iruntatu._ _[No, it was not that easy._ _] » the Creative Mother confides me with sadness. The silhouettes of Arien and the mysterious man are fading away into the darkness, as this night gives way to the day._

* * *

 _-_ _« Pâlânkâlkôtûppavar » Telperion says to a woman walking in our direction. Nice! Another language that is unknown to me except the sonority of this one closely resembles the old haradim language. In order to translate this word, I do the exact same thing as before and get the name ''GiverofFruits''._

 _-« Atu, oru quenya, peyar... [It is a quenya first name,…] » the Creative Mother clarifies, «Oru Quenya, atu molipeyarkka. […translate this in quenya,…]» Following her instructions, I end up with ''Yavanna''. Wait! I know this name!_

 _-_ ** _«_** _Tulukhedelgorûs, Ibrîniðilpathânezel [''SongofGold'' –Laurelin in quenya-, ''SilverTree'' –Telperion in quenya-.] » the so-called Yavanna greets in return. If I recall correctly, this woman was a current character in Master Gamgee's tale and I ask myself how much harm time has done to her story._

 _-« ''_ _CanLaiṭMeyṭan'' en ûtâvi cerppâtan mûlam dûcted, enakku vântatû. Avaḷ kûra uṇârcci..._ _['_ _'MaidenofSunlight'' – or Arien in quenya- has came to me asking for my help. She feels guilty…_ _] »Yavanna begins. Her skin has the colours of a young soil washed by a morning rain. Her big brown eyes and her thick lips are admirably counterbalanced by her fine nose. Her brown hair is pulled back in a loose bun. A few free locks rest here and there on her flowing white dress that she is currently wearing as well as a long jacket of a ripe peachy shade. The two clothes are tied together with the help of a bronze scarf with complex pattern such that they hold as one._

 _-«_ _Atu, anku onrû ullâtu ''CanLâitmêytân'' marrûm nam mai pâtukâkka ânâiyittâ marrûm nî enkê iruntây ''Kompu'' ? ll Oruvêḷai avarkâl kûtâ inta pâmpu Fëanor cêrntu kontâ ullanâ. [She should be, 'MaidenofSunlight'' – or Arien in quenya- and ''theHorned'' –Tilion in q.- had sworn to protect us and where were they hum?! Perhaps they even are in cahoots with this snake of_ _Fëanor.] » the Creative Mother -then under the appearance of Laurelin- explodes. Surely Tilion is the name of the mystery man who accompanied Arien. I seem to remember reading something about him in the healer's books. What is sure is that his name is linked to the ''Trees'' somewhat._

 _-«_ _Illai, avarkâl nêrmaiyâka nilaittiruppên. [No, they remain loyal to you._ _] » Yavanna assures frowning._

 _-«_ _Unkalûkku eppatî teriyum mutiyum? [How do you know?_ _] » Telperion reasons as calmly as possible given the circumstances;_

 _-« Tâkkutal naṭanta nêrattil marâ naṭavaṭikkaikaḷil îṭupaṭṭatâka avarkaḷ oppukkolvatâl enâkkut teriyum. [I know because they have confessed to be involved in other activities at the time of the attack.]_ » _Yavanna explains tactfully;_

 _-«_ _Nampa mutîyavillai! [_ _Unbelievable!] » Laurelin exclaims;_

 _-«_ _Nam kulântaikalâi kantupitîkka? [Have you found our children?_ _] »Telperion worries;_

 _-«_ _Pirins Fëanor cila nêram munpu enâkku vantatu. Avar pônrâ oru nikalvai, êrpatûm enrû niccayamâka nân avarai nampavillai ennai eccarikka vêntum. [Prince_ _Fëanor came to me before any of this. He wished to warn me that such thing could occur; of course I did not believe him.] » Yavanna develops further, joining her hands. She walks between the two ''Trees'' with no obvious purpose, reinforcing her points by some well placed glances._

 _-«_ _Nînkal ennâ nampikkai kollâvillai? Atu paittiyam âka mutîyum? innûm mun irantâm arîkurîkal tenpâtûkinrânâ. [What is it that you did not believe? that he could go mad? Yet there were forerunners._ _] » Laurelin ironies;_

 _-«_ _Nân unkâl conta kulântaikal pâtukâkkum tâlviyataiyum enrû nampavillai._ _[I did not believe that you could fail your own children concerning their protection.] » Yavanna corrects. The sentence seems to echo still in the air like an unappealable judgement. Her lips pursed, the woman stares at the two ''Trees'' defiantly._

 _-«_ _Enrû oru kurâinta atîyâka irukkirâtu. [_ _It's low.] » Telperion spits out after a long silence;_

 _-«_ _Avar avaratu kôtpâtu kâtta vêntum._ _[He wanted to establish the validity of his theory_ _.]_ _» Yavanna explains, her voice softer this time;_

 _-« Niccayamâka illai, avar enkal kulântaikal pattâmum vêntûm enru virumpukirâr. [Of course not, he wants the power that our children can give.]_ » _the Creative Mother retorts, unyielding;_

 _-«_ _Atu pirins Fëanor ôraḷavu kurîppittâ enpâtu unmai tân...[I admit that Prince_ _Fëanor is a little peculiar...]Yavanna grants as she tilts slightly her head on the side;_

 _-«_ _Kurîppâka? [Peculiar ?] Laurelin underlines, not soften by Yavanna's explications;_

 _-« Nâm marûkka mutîyâtu murâi kêlvikkuriya nallarîvu ullâ oru cirû teyvam ûkam ennâ... Ippôtu marûkkamutîyâta enrû. [We can deny that what was only the speculation of an elves with questionable mental health now is...unquestionable.]_ » _The woman in white argues with craft. She certainly possesses an incontestable persuasive force._

 _-«_ _Cari, avar colvatu caritân, nâm ippôtu nam kulântaikal ceyya. [Good, he is right, now give us our children back.]the Creative Mother says, losing her patience;_

 _-«_ _Pirins Fëanor avar avarkalâi oru kavacam uruvâkka muṭiyum enrû unkâl kulântaikal eppôtum avarai palâm nilaiyai vittû nînkal kêṭkalâm. Atai nînkaḷ mîntum katâtti enrû mârîyatu enrâl, katâttalkârarkal tankâl atikârankalâi payanpâtûtta mutîyavillai. [Prince_ _Fëanor asks you to entrust him with your children while they are still fruits in order for him to build them a shield. Thereby, if your children were once more abducted, the kidnapers could not use their powers. ]Yavanna recounts. It is come back to me now! According to Master Gamgee, Fëanor, the elf would have created three indestructible crystal globs that shielded the light of the Trees of Valinor. I do not recall anything about children abduction though._

 _-«_ _Nînkal intap poykalâi nampakattânmai kotûkka ennîtâm collâtê!?_ _[Do not tell me that you believe his lies!?] » Laurelin cries out infuriated;_

 _-«_ _Avar nânkal nînkal vâlkirîrkal, nînkal ânâl nâm, ettu kêtkirâr. [He asks but, we, the heights, order you to._ _] »Yavanna commands_

 _-«_ _Ennâ! [_ _What !] » Laurelin exclaims;_

 _-«_ _Nīṅkaḷ atai eppaṭi uttaraviṭa muṭiyum? Nīṅkaḷ am'mā paṭaippāḷar irukkum! Avaḷ yār? [How can she order you? You are the Creative Mother! Who is she?] ». She does not respond._ _«_ _Am'mâ pataippôlar? [Creative Mother?_ _-_ _old haradrim language] »._

 _-«_ _Evvalâvu kâlattîrku? [For how long?]_ _» Telperion asks with a broken voice as he lays one of his hands-branches on the shoulder-trunk of his companion;_

 _-«_ _Nârpatti âru ântukal. [Forty-six years._ _] »Yavanna answers firmly;_

 _-«_ _Illai! [_ _No !] » Telperion and Laurelin roar in unison;_

 _-«_ _Nînkal vêrû valîyillai. [You have no choice_ _.] »Yavanna sentences. Then a disturbing idea finds her way to my conscience: what if all these Valar's stories are true? What if the Creative Couple is not? What if they are only Valar ? Perhaps I deceive myself imagining that this Yavanna is not a Valië like the Men of the North thought but that her history have been corrupted by time._

 _-«_ _Am'mā paṭaippāḷar ?! [Creative Mother ?!_ _-_ _old haradrim language] ». Still no answer._ _« Laurelin ?! »._

 _-«_ _En nînkal êrka avar nâm teriyâtu enrû yâr ceyvatu? [Why are you agreeing to this, what is it that we do not know?_ _] » Telperion questions suspicious. The memory goes on despite my calls; this is why I try to leave yet again._

 _-«_ _Vênrû onrûm illai. [Nothing more_ _.] » Yavanna assures while I struggle in order to regain my freedom however someone seems to hold my head under the water;_

 _-«_ _En kulântaikal ennâi tirumpinâr enrâl illai, nân capikkappattâ nilam telîvupatûttunkâl pâyvitûm. Valinor marrûm mattiya puvi inî maraṇam oru paranta irukkum. Pinnâr nînkal âriyan ennâi patâippâlâr enrû ên teriyum. [If my children are not returned to me, I will cease to shine upon these cursed lands. Valinor and Middle Earth will only be a large area of death. Then you will know why Arien calls me the Creator.]Laurelin threaten, her foliage brighter than ever. Stunned, I understand now...I have not the strength to fight anymore._

 _-«_ _Nînkal unkâl katânta palâm kavilntûvitûm nînkum? [You will let you last fruit perish?_ _] » The ''Valië'' retorts while arcing one of her eyebrows._

 _-«_ _Nînkal eppatî teriyum? [How do you know_ _?] » Laurelin asks caught off guard;_

 _-«_ _Atu kuttîccâttânkal, ânâl enâkku pulappatâta irukkalâm. [She is perhaps imperceptible to the elves but not for me.] Yavanna reveals, a discreet smile on her lips;_

 _-«_ _Nârpattâru varusam mattûm innûm oru ântû. Nân oru uttaravâtam kôri. [Forty-six years not one more and I want a guaranty.] Telperion consents with a heavy heart as he looks at Laurelin in the eyes and held her hands;_

 _-«_ _Nârpatti âru ânttukal. Nân oru makân. [_ _Forty-six years and I will have one of his sons.] » the woman in white confirms;_

 _-«_ Ippolûtu cel _. [_ _Go now.] » Telperion demands. The woman in white accepts but turns around after a few steps:_

 _-«_ _Aval eppatî enrû ? [_ _What will be her name?] »;_

 _-« Nânkal innûm mutîvu ceyyavillai, Kātalparicu allatu Aṉpēparicu. [''GiftofLove'' –Melyanna in quenya- or ''DearGift'' -Melinanna in q.-, we have not decided yet.]_ » _Telperion deign to answer. The ''Valië'' nods before she walks away._

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Inkama reaches the Fangorn Forest= Lord of the rings II Soundtrack – The Entmoot decides;

-Inkama enters the forest= Lord of the rings II Soundtrack – Fangorn;

-Inkama meets her first Ent= Lord of the rings II Soundtrack – Ent-Draught;

-Inkama meets the Creative Mother in the flesh= Game of Thrones Season 3 Soundtrack –Mhysa;

-Inkama and the Creative Mother's talk (''Do you remember your promise'' to ''Good, now dive into my past child.'' )= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack –Love is in the eyes;

-the Creative Mother shares her first memory, part I (Feänor and his sons)= Lord of the rings Song– Emyn Muil Alernate;

-the Creative Mother shares her first memory, part II (Arien and the mystery man)= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack –When the sun rises in the west;

-the Creative Mother shares her second memory, part I (meet Yavanna)= Lord of the rings The musical – Saruman;

-the Creative Mother shares her second memory, part II (rest of the memory)= Game of Thrones Season 3 Soundtrack –Chaos is a ladder.

Author's notes:

Thank you for keep reading me!

I imagined Inkama to look like a young Jennifer Lopez with darker hair, the Lady-Tree and Arien looks like Madhuri Dixit, the mystery man looks like Jean-Marie Winling, Yavanna is portrayed by Gina Torres and finally Fëanor looks like a younger Zeljko Ivanek.

Next chapter: _In spite of betrayals_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

12


	11. In spite of betrayals

_**Chapter 11-Despite betrayals…**_

 _ ****Inkama**_

I regain consciousness under the starry sky of Fangorn Forest. After a few seconds my vision is clear enough to distinguish her:

-« Nīṅkaḷ am'mā paṭaippāḷar illai, nīṅkaḷ poy! [You are not the Creative Mother, you lied! – old haradrim language] » I stagger; I build my entire life on illusions...

-« Eppōtu nāṉ poy coṉṉēṉ? [And when would I have lied to you? – old haradrim language] » She replies calmly. It comes back to me now, she did not answer this question in my dream, I concluded that. I want to cry and yell at the same time but I contain myself. I wish to know the truth, whatever it is...it is the only thing that I have left:

-« Hērratri kiriyēṭṭiv tampilil eppaṭi nampukiṟār, ataṉ kuḻantaikaḷ kiyōs'sāl paṭukolai ceyyappaṭṭirukkiṟārkaḷ? [How it is that Haradrim believe in the Creative Couple whose children have been murdered by Chaos? – old haradrim language] » I say struggling to pronounce every words;

-« Atai nīṅkaḷ ippōtu niṉaippatu pōl uṇmaiyai iruntu veku tolaivil illai... Nāṉ, ' ' Caṉ'' nāṉ eṉ tōḻi ' ' Mūṉ'' eṉa oru paṭaippu vāḻkkai illai? Itēpōl, kāraṇamāka ivarkaḷ kēyās maṉitarkaḷ nam kuḻantaikaḷ maṟṟum nam'mai nuir muyaṉṟu varukiṉṟaṉar. Nāṉ eṉ niṉaivukaḷ nīṅkaḷ maṟṟoru eṉiṉum, nīṅkaḷ valimai peṟa vēṇṭum, eṉ vāḻkkaiyil inta kālattil kāṭṭa vēṇṭum. [It is not as far from the truth as you think now...Me, the ''Sun'', am I not a creator of life like my companion the ''Moon''? Furthermore, being harbouring chaos try to harm our children as well as ourselves. Soon I will show you another memory of mine about this time of my existence however you need to regain your strength – old haradrim language] » Ah! So if we follow her line of thought it is the Haradrim who are mistaken. Clever move but I am smart too:

-« Nīṅkaḷ uṅkaḷ iyalpu tavaṟāka eṉ makkaḷ vāḻa ceytuviṭṭēṉā? [Have you not done anything to mislead my people about your true nature? – old haradrim language] »;

-« Nāṉ tūṇṭiviṭṭa maṟṟum mukavar maṭṭumē ēmāṟṟutal nīṅkaḷ ellām pārkka muṭiyum pōtu ēṉ eṉṉai kēṭka eṉ kuḻantaikaḷ... Piḻaippataṟku tēvaiyāṉa iruntaṉa? [The only deceptions that I have been the instigator and the agent was a necessity to the survival of my children...but why ask me this question when you can see it all? – old haradrim language] » she answers scrutinising my every moves;

-« Uṅkaḷ kuḻantaikaḷ uyiruṭaṉ uḷḷaṉa? [Your children are still alive? – old haradrim language] » I say less surprised that I would have been a few hours before. Another mirage...

-« Eṉ kaiyai eṭuttu nīṅkaḷ aṟintu koḷvīrkaḷ. [Hold my hands and you will know– old haradrim language] she answers laconically. My suspicions seem to have cast a chill. Taking a deep breath, I put my hand in hers once more: I had to know. I hold on to this thought in order to push out of my consciousness the turmoil of my soul.

* * *

 _Once again I find myself in these green plains inhabited by Laurelin and Telperion. A storm of emotions and thoughts explode in my head. Perhaps I am not ready to know how this history ends. As I walk, I perceive voices, one of whose is familiar to me..._

 _-« Nâm totâra mutîyâtu. [We can continue.] » The beautiful Arien whispers, her eyes full of tears. She wears a pretty black dress long and fluid embroidered with a thousand dark golden threads._

 _-« En ênrû kûrûkinrîrkalâ? [Why are you saying this?] » the mystery man asks with his deep and magnetic voice. His long white hair tied in a true Minas Tirith's Court men fashion underlines his green eyes. His face is broad, his lips are thin, and his skin seems marked by time...What else? His feature reminds me a little of Gandalf, this magician who I had meet in Minas-Tirith a few time ago._

 _-« Nînkâl nânkû teriyum ên nâm pâtukâkka vêntum atarkû patilâka, nâm, enkâlûkku êrpattâtu...[You know perfectly well why! We were supposed to protect them and instead of that, we, we,…] » Arien explodes as much sad as angry_

 _-« Nâm teriyum mutîyavillai. Ippôtu nârpâttârû ântûkal, ên tanî. [We could not know. It has been forty-six years, what is the point of splitting now. ] » the mystery man -surely this so-called Tilion- tries to reason her. His long grey tunic currently covered by a light armour imitating the barks of a tree rustles under the effect of the wind._

 _-« Tulliyamâka, kulântaikal mârrûm Tulukhedelgorûs Ibrîniðilpathânezel anûkumurâi tirumpi têtiyiliruntu, nân mîttû vêntûm. Nân avarkalâi murrîlum inta nêrattil arppanîkkappattâ nân. [Precisely, the date of return of Laurelin and Telprion's children approaches, I want to redeem myself. I will be completely devoted to them this time.] » Arien explains full of hope. She sweeps the quiet tears which are sliding along her cheeks. Tilion's eyes darken._

 _-« Nâm, etaiyum tatûttu nirûttiyirukka nân urûtiyâka irukkirên mutîyavillai. Inta turôki Tiâvi_ _Fëanor kanîttîruntâr. Anâl inrû nâm mulû pâtukâkka mutîyum. [We could not have prevented this from happening, I am convinced of that. This traitor of Fëanor planned everything but today we can protect them together.] » He argues gripping Arien's hands. The way Tilion pronounces ''together'' leaves no doubt about the nature of their relationship._

 _-« Nân ûnnai kâtalikkirêṉ... [I love you but…] » Arien starts, clearly distraught;_

 _-« Canlâitmêytân, Kompu. [Arien, Tilion –quenya translation of these names-] » a tall dark-haired man interrupts; « Nân nînkâl inta vilûmiya uyirinâm munvâikka virumpukirên. [I would like you to meet this magnificent creature.] » he goes on with a cheerful voice while gesturing excessively to the red-haired woman next to him. The creature in question minces, brings her hands to her chest while bating her eyelash. She has the fairest complexion I ever seen and I have seen a lot of white people in Minas Tirith! It was as if her skin radiated her own light. The softness of her face and the femininity of her body are betrayed by a proud shin and a malicious air which makes me stand on guard._

 _-«_ _Valimaimikka-Raicin. [_ _Melkor. -_ _quenya translation of the name_ _-] » Arien and Tilion greet reluctantly._ _The dark-haired man is wearing a long dark purple tunic with golden pattern and a collar enhanced by black fur._ _Even thought he_ _posses rough features, he does not lack allure: full lips, expressive black eyes and a slightly tanned skin._ _In Master Gamgee's tale, Melkor was the Vala who killed Laurelin and Telperion with the help of Ungoliant, a giant spider. That being said, who knows what will happen in this memory?_

 _-« O! Nân êtâvatu kurûkkitâ ennâ? [Oh ! Have I interrupted something?] » Melkor asks and pouts. He turns to the red-haired woman who looks at him as she wanted to communicate some secret message. The dark-haired takes a few steps, positions himself to be facing Tilion over Arien's shoulder on which he lays his hand in a false fraternal gesture. « Nân yûkikkirên, nînkâl Kompu avaratu tîrâta kâtal oru iyankâta oppu marrûm nînkal ceyya verûmanê etuvum illai. Yâr avar? Atu pôtumânâtâka illai nînkâl êtâvatonrû tî cuṭar am'maṇi ullâtâ? [Let me guess, Tilion – quenya translation of the name - has professed his immortal love for you for the nth time and you just do not care. What is it? Is he not good enough for you Lady All Fire and Flame?] »;_

 _-« Nâm enrû nerukkamâka illai. [We are not that close.] » Arien says pushing Melkor's hand away;_

 _-« Houu aval kâtîkkum! [Wow she bites!] » he exclaims. The red haired woman comes closer to Tilion, a mischievous smile on her lips and touches lightly his hands as she wanted to comfort him. The dark green fabric_ _that she wears_ _which is simply held by a thin belt makes her complexion shines even brighter._

 _-« Nân âvar nînkâl Kompu pitîkkum... Inta vetkâppatâvillai pârunkâl êtuttu itu oru putiya iraiyai kânâppatûm enrû ninâikkirên. [I think she likes you_ _,_ _Tilion –_ _quenya translation of the_ _name -…When she looks falsely shy as now, it is that she has find a new prey.] » Melkor says amused. At that exact moment, I feel like I am living in a nightmare: under my horrify eyes the red-haired turns into a giant spider. Petrified, Arien sees Tilion get impaled by the sting of the creature._

 _-« Enn…Ennâ? [Wa...what? ] » Arien stutters while Tilion's body collapses on the ground;_

 _-« Nî innôru tôliyaik kantûpiṭippây enrû ancûkirên, anyâllântin viṣam kûṭa enkâḷukku âpattu. [I am afraid you will have to find yourself another companion, Ungoliant's venom – quenya translation of the name - is lethal even for us.] » Arien screams, flames seem to glow under her skin but before anything happens she is raised off the ground.« Tû, tû, tû, nînkal nân pyromania unkâl anûkal etirpârkka villai ninâikkirîrkal. Oru nalla peṇ irukka marrûm atai etirkkum nirûtta...Atu mukkiyam illai, en têlikinîcis unkâl tâkkutalkal tîcai tiruppuvatâkavum irukkum. O nân ênta porûmai vêntûm. [Tut, tut, tut, do you think that I have not anticipated your bouts of pyromania. Be nice, stop struggling...Don't bother my telekinesis will deviate all your strike. Oh, whatever I do not have the patience.] » Even before Ungoliant's cry is heard, his sting is broken then launches into Arien's heart at high speed. I am stunned._

 _-« Eppatî nî itai ceyya mutiyum? [How could you do that to me !?] » Ungoliant exclaims now in her human form;_

 _-« Urnnû vêntâm, nînkal viraivil pôtumânâ kunâmatâiya vēntûm! [Don't pout, you will regenerate soon enough!] » Melkor retorts while pulling the sting out of Arien's body. His interlocutor gives him a black look. My heart breaks as the two accomplices walk to the ''Trees'': I guess all too well what will happen. Motionless, eyes shut closed, I fight down the urge to flee another scene of violence where I would be necessarily powerless. Soon screams and rackets are getting heard. Rousing myself away from my torpor, I open my eyes and realise that my body has been moved. Despite the lack of light, I see two big unanimated shapes lying on the grasses stained by a black substance. 'Some sort of snap' I thought inspecting the liquid on my fingers. Laurelin and Telperion! The anger which was mine is long gone now, eclipsed by this carnage. My vision becomes blurred, I feel myself stagger before darkness engulfs me entirely._

* * *

 _I open my eyes with great difficulty and perceive agitated shadows...However without my consent, my eyelids close a few seconds after...I am so tired and my head is heavy...It can be! It is only a memory! How can it do that to me? Yet I do not admit defeat,_ _I cling on to the buzzing voices near me to extract myself from the lethargic state which engulfs me:_

 _-«_ _Ñoldo_ _utâimai innûm palâ caripârkka vêntûm? [Would you mind making sure that the_ _Ñoldo_ _are still in possession of the fruits?] »;_

 _-« Avarkalûkku nirâiya vâlkkai ankû nilavukirâtu. [There is no much life left in them.] »;_

 _-« Kâtalparicu pilâittu. [Melyanna – quenya translation of the name_ _-_ _has survived.] »;_

 _-« En cakti pôtâtu, avarkalîn utâl mikavum mukkiyamânâtu. [My power will not suffice, their bodies are too massive.] »;_

 _-« Nâm vâlûm ullîrkal enrû iruttîl inta vayatil karutalâmâ? Nâm ennâ irukkum enrû nampukirên? [Are we doomed to live Dark Age? What hope do we have left?] ». I sink into unconsciousness once again ... I manage to surface in a final effort and look around: Laurelin and Telperion lay still on the grasses; they produce a weak light that allows me to distinguish four peoples including who appears to be Yavanna._

 _-« Tulukhedelgorûs, Ibrîniðilpathânezel ! Turatirustâvacamâka Canlâitmêytân marrûm Kompu tankâl kâyankâl kâranâmâka irântanâr; nînkal âḥp nôkki mun nînkal kûtâ nâm Valimaimikka-Raicin cantêkam, munnâr Tiâvi Ñoldo oppatâikkappattâtu oru palâm tîttâ kāṇappaṭavillai vēṇṭum... [Laurelin, Telperion ! Sadly Arien and Tilion –quenya translation of these names- has succumbed to their injuries; before you do as well, we have a proposal. Your fruits entrust to the_ _Ñoldo_ _Fëanor cannot be found; we suspect Melkor –_ _q. translation of the name -...] » Yavanna addresses to Laurelin and Telperion. Her voice remains firm despite being charged with regret._

 _-«_ _Kâtalparicu_ _?_ _[Melyanna? –quenya translation of the name-] » Telperion interrupts weakly;_

 _-« Atu pâtukâppânâtu. Atu nanrâka marâittu vaikkappattîruntatu. [She is safe and sound. She hid well. ] » a light-haired maiden –perhaps a redhead? - informs. Next to her a dark-haired woman with complexion as pale as the first one stands silently._

 _-« Unkâl anûmatiyutân nânkal CanLâitmêytân marrûm_ _Kompu_ _ulakam, nînkal inkê irukka vêntûm enrû valânkâppatûm kalaippup putiya olî utâlil unkâḷ âvikal mârrâ vêntûm. Nînkal unkâl palâm têtî unkâlâi totânkûvatil, inta nâtûkalîlullâ vittû yôcanâi iruntatu enînûm enrâl; nânkâl Kâtalparicu vilakka vêntûm: Nînkal inta itânkâlîl inâikkappattâ pôtu atu mattiya-pûmikku anûppappatûm. [With your consent, we will transfer your mind to Arien and Tilion's body–quenya translation of these names- to one condition: you will remain here and shine once again upon this world. However if you would ever leave these lands, seeking your fruits yourself, we will separate you from Melyanna -quenya translation of the name-:she will be sent in Middle Earth while you will be tie to this place.] » a middle age man with a long face, shining eyes and a startling deep voice goes on._

 _-« Oppu [Agreed.] » Laurelin consents between short laborious breaths;_

 _-« Ibrîniðilpathânezel [Telperion ? -quenya translation of the name-]» Yavanna urges;_ _-« Oppu. [Agreed.] » Telperion confirms unwillingly._

* * *

This time I regain consciousness without delay. The Creative Mother or Laurelin or Arien –whatever her name is- is still here scrutinizing me carefully. I resign myself to break the heavy silence:

-« Avarkaḷ uṅkaḷ kuḻantaikaḷ peṟṟuk koṇṭīrkaḷā ? [Did they find your children? –old haradrim language] »;

-« Eṇ [No. –old haradrim language]» she answers with emotion;

-« Nīṅkaḷ eṉṉai avaṟṟai mīṇṭum koṇṭuvara etirpārkka... [You expect I bring them back…–old haradrim language] » I summarize;

-« Mutaṉmai tumhen chuna hai. [I choose you. –old haradrim language] » she say simply;

-« Nāṉ pala poykaḷiṉ aṭippaṭaiyil oppu! [And I agreed on the basis of so much lies! –old haradrim language] » I exclaim, finding my righteous anger again;

-« Tavira nīṅkaḷ uṇmaiyil eṉakku vēṟu vaḻi illai āṉāl tantiramāṉa mukattai eṉakku etirāka leagued koṇṭirunta Valar eṉṟu niṉaikkiṟīrkaḷā? ..., Nīṅkaḷ uṅkaḷ vāḻkkaiyil mītu eṉ kuḻantaikaḷ maṟṟum anta uyirkaḷai pātukākka vākkaḷittatum nīṅkaḷ aṉpu, maṟṟavarkaḷ mattiyil kāṭṭik koṭuppukkaḷ pōtilum: Nāṉ niṉaivil teriyātu eṉṟu nāṉ niṉaikkavillai. [Do you really think that I have other choice but to us duplicity against the Valar who united against me? ... Moreover, you have promise to .protect my children on your life and the one of people you love despite all the betrayals among other things: don't think I will forget. –old haradrim language] » she roars as a blaze appears in her eyes and flames crackle under her thin fingers. Realizing my mistake, I froze:

-« Ēṉ eṉ utavi tēvai? Nīṅkaḷ ippōtu Valar taṭai mīṟukiṉṟaṉar. [Why do you need my help? You defy Valar's authority right now. –old haradrim language] » I reason trying to somehow extricate myself from this situation;

-« Avvappōtu, nāṉ taṅkaḷ lañca oḻippu iruntu eṉṉai nīkka nirvakikka. Eppōtum iravu, eṉakku avarkaḷai kaṇṭupiṭikka aṉumatikkiṟatu eṉṟu etaiyum. Nāṉ ēṟkaṉavē piṭittu. [Every now and then I manage to escape detection. Always at night, it is not sufficient for me to find them. I already got caught for that matter. –old haradrim language] » she explains calmer;

-« Melyanna kku eṉṉa naṭantatu? [What happen to Melyanna? –old haradrim language] » I ask as I remembered the Valar's threat in the memory that she shared with me;

-« Āmām atu eṉṉaiviṭṭu kiḻintatu. Mika nīṇṭa varuṭaṅkaḷukkup piṟaku, avarkaḷ eṉṉai kīḻē amaiti karutappaṭukiṟatu pōtu, nāṉ mīṇṭum kaṇṭupiṭittuḷḷaṉar;. [Yes they tore her away from me. Too much years after we were able to find each other again when they thought I was quieten –old haradrim language] » she recounts with resentment;

-« Melyanna… Melian, Rāṇi Arwen mūtātaiyar oru iṇaippai uḷḷaṉa ? [Melyanna…is there a connection with Melian, the Queen Arwen's ancestor? –old haradrim language] » I say as I recalled the tell that Master Hobbit narrated at the time of my convalescence;

-« Nāṉ nīṅkaḷ tērnteṭukkum urimai iruntirukkum eṉṟu teriyum! Āmām, atu tāṉ. [I knew that I was not mistaken when I choose you! Yes it is her. –old haradrim language] » she concludes and I can see the spark of mystery in her eyes again.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Inkama and Laurelin's thruths= The Hobbit I Soundtrack- Riddles in the Dark;

-Arien and Tilion's love= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack –When the sun rises in the west;

-Melkor and Ungoliant= The Hobbit II Soundtrack- Flies and Spiders;

-Laurelin and Telperion are dying= Lord of the rings I Soundtrack– Caras Galadhon;

-Inkama and Laurelin talk= Game of Thrones Season 6 Soundtrack –Blood of my blood.

Author's notes:

Thank you for keep reading me! So did you see it coming?

My imaginary casting:

-Inkama= a young Jennifer Lopez with darker hair;

-the Lady-Tree and Arien= Madhuri Dixit;

-Tilion= Jean-Marie Winling;

-Yavanna= Gina Torres;

-Melkor= Xavier Gallais;

-Ungoliant= Christina Hendricks;

 _-"a light-haired maiden –perhaps a redhead?"_ who is in fact Nienna= Isolda Dichauk;

- _"Next to her a dark-haired woman with complexion as pale as the first one stands silently"_ who is in fact Estë=Rachel Weisz;

 _\- "a middle age man with a long face, shining eyes and a startling deep voice goes on"_ who is in fact Manwë= Carlo Brandt.

Next chapter: _Men's moods_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

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	12. Men's moods

_**Chapter 12 : Men's moods**_

 _ ******_ _ **Ithilann**_

 _Although I am a peredhel [half-elf –sindarin], I instinctively knew that the infinite sadness which has slowly taken root in my heart now infects my body –this time the one of a teenager- slowly leading it to death. Instead of ending this way, I have chosen to go to Amon Sûl –Weather Hills in Common Speech-, there, from the top of the ruins, my suffering will cease. It is well know that at the turning points of our life, we notice the smallest things or perhaps it seems small in comparison. And I distinctively remember telling myself that the Weather Hills bores his name well. The wind was blowing so strong rushing through the tower ruins that it produced strange sounds like a voice from beyond the grave._

 _-«Lady Ithilann wake-up! »…_ With pounding heart and shortness of breath, I open brusquely my eyes upon my new room.

 _-_ « Ailinel. » I recognise the young woman after some time. Queen Arwen wanted for me to benefit from the service of a domestic; she insisted absolutely, using her quiet strength which characterizes her so much. It is very complicated to deny her anything, and I am no exception to this rule. According to my uncle, her power of persuasion had already flourished before her coronation and I imagined with some amusement how it must have been difficult to be her father.

-« I believe you were having a bad dream, so I have taken the liberty to awaking you from your sleep. » My interlocutor explains shyly. She was a petite woman who had lovely blond hair, soft features and a very gentle temper.

-« You did well. » I reassure her as I am remembering my dream-memory...What if the wind clamours was not the produce of guts but the first failed manifestation of my stalker. It was perhaps what he means when he claimed to be my "friend" during our _conversation_ in the Citadel Library. These strange sounds had led me to change my original plan to a certain extent. I shiver and try hard to get rid of this nasty idea. I only wish to take a greater advantage of these quiet times in my life, is it too much to ask? I still have the hope that this voice will leave me when my training with my uncle will be over.

-« What do you wish to wear today Lady Ithilann ? » Ailinel asks me, jolting me from my thoughts;

-« something simple, Queen Arwen and I will picnic today. » I say leaving my bed not without difficulty;

-« It seems lovely. I already know which hairstyle I will do for you. » the young woman answers with a soft smile on her lips.

* * *

-« Weapon Master. » I greet Eothain in the Citadel hallway not long after I have closed my bedroom door. As usual, our rohirrim Weapon Master has well groomed his appearance when I have opted with Ailinel's help for a simple look. My two temporal locks are tied in the back of my head so my ears can be seen while all my hair is pulled back into a low braided bun. The design of the dress I am wearing today is the same as my emerald one except for the blue-grey fabric. It is much more modest, most responsible to the activity of this day. My diadem completes my garment.

-« Ithilann. It has been a long time since I saw you. » he reproaches;

-« One day, it has been one day. » I rectify rolling my eyes;

-« My point exactly. » he says not discountenanced at all;

-« I did not feel well, but I am better now. » I justify myself with a not so confident voice –I happen to be a lousy liar-. The Weapon Master scrutinizes me, his face unreadable as usual then adds:

-« So I will see you at the Training Field tonight. »;

-« Yes. » I confirm then say my goodbye;

-« Wait ! » he exclaims while grasping my forearm, « What are you doing here dressed as a Lady above all? I am not complaining however it is not in your habits. » At this very moment my face must reflect the panic I feel. What could I tell him? No official announcement has been made about me: for the Citadel inhabitant I am Lady Ithilann. No one had asked question until now. If he was a close relation of my father I would have spit the truth out without regard to the consequences, being content with his embarrassment. However my uncle and my cousin did not deserve this, they had been more than courteous toward me. Think Ithilann! Think!

-« I am Queen Arwen's cousin, we have found out recently because our parents had lost touch with each other. » I say with a confidence I do not feel. I am a poor liar so the key is to do not lye is it not? I just have to omit.

-« And Queen Arwen's cousin is a blacksmith apprentice at the good Master Urîdzir's workshop... » Eothain begins not convinced;

-« On one hand the profession of blacksmith is a noble craft among the Elves; on the other hand, my people consider myself as an extravagant: I wanted to explore the world so I have done just that. » I argue quickly then conclude by a « Good day. » in order to curtail the conversation;

-« Good day to you…Lady Ithilann... » he answers amused and once more I fight down the urge to roll my eyes.

* * *

** _ **Queen Arwen**_

My cousin and I have settled on a thick green blanket where disposed victuals of all sorts are. Admittedly the gloomy vegetation of Minas Tirith reminds me how much I feel deprived of the gracious nature of Imladris however is it still pleasant to escape the dense wall of the city sometimes.

-« Ni adh chên. Len aníron istad eb ben. [I am pregnant. I wish you to know before the others. - sindarin ] » I reveal in my mother tongue which is unknown to the soldiers ensuring our security today;

-« Manen hen istol? [How do you know? - s.] » my cousin is surprised, she looks for any revealing sign that she could have miss;

-« Iston [I know. - s.] » I say simply for the reason that all my being confirms it. Was it the little boy who appeared to me in dream before the term of the War of the Ring even thought I was about to leave Middle Earth? Of this I was not assured.

-« Nonol gelir ? [Are you happy? - s.] » she asks me with a hesitant voice. I am more than surprised by her question: how can one fail to be delighted about the arrival of a new life in these lands that could have fall into darkness and death? Then the particular circumstances of Ithilann's birth have come back to me brutally:

-« Naun. [I am. - s.] » I confirm touched to tears;

-« Anlen naun gelir ''san'' [''Then'' –quenya- I am happy for you–sindarin-.] » she says playing with the use of the two _Edhill_ languages as she has wanted to alleviate the intensity of the moment;

-« Ma ! Mára ! [Good ! –sindarin- Good ! –quenya-] » I encourage her before asking her the same question :

-« A le ? Nonol gelir ? [And you? Are you happy? - s.] ». She stops her conscientious mixing of fresh cheese and fruits and gazes at me:

-« ú-gerin noe [I don't complain. - s.] » she answers, reserved;

-« I 'wanur nîn iston ach len aníron hiri îdh ennas. [I know cousin but I would like you to find peace in this place. - s.] ». I formulate with as much gentleness as I could muster. Overly troubled by the topic, she changes the subject recounting her last encounter with the Weapon Master. I nod and plan to converse with my husband and my father on the matter. This morning ended with our usual lesson of quenya.

* * *

 _ ******_ _ **Ithilann**_

In order to celebrate the last addition to the family, the royal couple choose to invite to their table my uncle, my cousins and myself. Therefore, contrary to the normal customs in this place of power, the dinner is served in small committee. At the end of this pleasant reunion I convince my cousins to visit Minas Tirih's market:

-« A deilien ? [And a toy? –sindarin-] » I ask Elrohir and Elladan while we roam in the city. One could not miss the noble origin of my cousins by the look of their garments but also by their elegant features. Indeed, they are wearing luxury blue attires from Imladris with their diadems. As for their features, the twins look a lot like their sister: they have slight round nose, plump lips, almond-shaped blue eyes, elongated face and the pale complexion of my people.

-« Din ú-boe annol ann. [You are not required to offer a present. - s.] » Elladan answers me for the umpteen times while his brother nods;

-« Iston, ach chan aníron. Hammad ? ach ú-iston natha aen iôn egor iell… [I know but I want to do it. Some clothes? however I do not know if it will be a boy or a girl… - s.]» I goes on, still decided to find a rare gem ;

-« Thand. [True. - s.] » Elrohir admits;

-«Oh and this blanket! Is it not beautiful? » I say enthusiastically;

-« Thanks you my Lady, I have sewed it myself. All with silver thread and do you see there? » the merchant of the stall where I have stopped begins. Although I am absorbed by the inspection of the object in question I hear Elladan call upon his brother in sindarin: perhaps has he also found something which has peaked his interest.

-« Yes, these are the arms of the royal couple. It is perfectly done, yet elfish blazons are complex. » I compliment with sincerity;

-« You are too good. » she answers visibly satisfied. After some consideration, I pay the seamstress and pick up my gem, smiling with content. Lifting my head, I notice immediately that my cousins are nowhere to be seen. 'Arg they could have waited for me before they wander among the stalls on their own!' I thought upset. The market is very well visited today; this does not simply my search at all. In the crowd, a Hararim –I suppose- stands out even thought he wears local clothes. Indeed among Godorian the tanned complexion, the black eyes and the shaved head of the man do not go unnoticed; especially as Inkama's compatriots are rare in Minas Tirith. My thoughts are with my dear friend, I hope that her journey was fruitful and I look forward to find her again. The unknown person who seems to be occupied by sealing statuettes to onlookers gazes in my direction and froze. His face went as white as sheet, he appeared terrified. I cast a glance behind me trying to identify the source of such dread but they were nothing unusual. Searching once again for the poor Haradrim I find him gone!

-« Ithilann ! Mas nónenol ? [Ithilann ! Where were you? –sindarin-] ». I jump as I do not recognize Elladan's voice immediately;

-« i ann nîn garin. [I have my gift. - s.] » I answer distracted;

-« Man te ? [What happened? - s.] » he presses frowning;

-« ú-nad [Nothing. - s.] » I say embarrassed by my own anxiety.

Finally I meet my uncle for our daily session of psychic reconstruction. We still are looking for a happy memory that could strengthen the barriers of my mind. Once my training completed, I quickly leave the Library of the Citadel: I have to change my clothes before I go to the Training Field.

* * *

** _ **Maître Eothain**_

Hearing footsteps, I turn around and gaze upon the pretty fair face of Ithilann. As usual, she only wears part of my students' equipments: the pants, the thick shirt, the boots and the short leather tunic on which her bread lies. If her light eyes are on my students and me, she seems to be lost in thoughts whereas her bottom lip is abused by her visible teeth. What could be the source of our noble Lady's concern?

-« Ah ! Lady Ithilann, you have finally choose to honour us with your presence...I am pleased. » I say while she approaches. I still remember our first meeting, she has well changed since. The Ithilann who had turned up covered in soot and burns is far away now. She throws me a dark look and retorts with a little authoritarian tone which suits her well:

-« I am here now, shall we begins?! »;

-« If we must. » I say trying to suppress a smile. As I have planned earlier, the exercises of these last hours are about unarmed combat. I must push my class to give their best; there is too much slackening for my taste lately. I frown, irritated; Ithilann is distracted as expected: her moves lacks precision, her inattention makes her take blows uselessly…

 _ ******_ _ **Ithilann**_

Our lesson finished, we are commanded to clear the Training Field. All the used equipments must find their rightful place. Arod seems to avoid me, looking the other way every time our gazes cross. Was it with him? _«Lomas qua. [He is hiding something. –quenya-]»_ the voice in my head speaks;

-« Munc ! [old elfish interjection that means ''Silence !''] » I let out despite myself;

-« Mmm ? ». Urthel, a young gondorian apprentice of the Weapon Master turns around a broom in hand;

-«I mean Arod seems odd today, do you know what is going on with him? » I say trying to retrieve the situation somehow while I am ordering Master Eothain's equipments on a shelf provided for that purpose;

-« I think you make him nervous. », I arches an eyebrow in puzzlement, « He knows very well that

Inkama and you are inseparable; it just so happens that our young rohirrim here is starting to flirt around the pretty Finduilas.» Urthel explains not without humour;

-« Who is she? » I ask unsettled. Until now, Arod has repeatedly expressed his desire to reclaim Inkama's heart to who wants to hear it. I cannot indulge in the anger which is growing in me, at risk of mentally knock out everyone who is close enough.

-« She works at The Cracked Shield inn...» he answers in a falsely indifferent tone;

-« It seems to entertain you. » I point out;

-« What can I say? I have never liked him. » He says with emphasis, and then frowns as he adds: « Tell me why the Weapon Master calls you Lady Ithilann as of now? ». Hesitant, I am luckily interrupted by Master Eothain:

-« Ithilann ! Urthel ! Stop billing and cooing, get to work now, it is not going to happen on its own! » The Weapon Master commands with a dark face. His sudden mood swig surprises me but I comply as my comrade do. Our task completed, Urthel and me regard with suspicion Arod slips away swiftly.

-« I am willing to bet a pint that he is going to meet her. » he whispers to me;

-« I will not bet on my friend's emotional life. » I mutter annoyed but also sadden for Inkama;

-« You are no fun and also he is not a part of her emotion life anymore...only she does not know it yet. » he replies not losing his cynical smile in the process;

-« You are awful! » I say as I shook my head, feeling guilty to see the fun side of his banters.

Finally my eyes fall upon the Weapon Master's face, his expression is as closed as before but I had my fair share of men's moods today so I say goodbye to everybody and go to the Citadel.

-« Lady Ithilann. » the servants greet me in turns as I enter the tower of the Citadel;

-« Hello to you. » I say politely and step onto the elegant but imposing stone stair that leads to my room. I have little time before diner, so I must hasten. On my path, I meet _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas in sindarin] who is, unlike me, already set to shear the King and Queen's table. He looks down on me from all of is hereditary legitimacy and grants me a slight move of his head! Suffice to say it is nothing new however today I cannot stand it: « Enough! What did I do to deserve this? Have I done something to you? No! Do you believe I have chosen to be born on the wrong side of Elfish laws? Still no! So I think I have the right to be respected! » I say raising my voice a little more at every sentences while despite me one tear wets my cheek. _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas in sindarin] opens his mouth to speak but no sound came out. With no more strength left and breathless I reach my room leaving a stupefied prince in my wake. This night, I will pretend to suffer from stomach ache in order to avoid the diner in question...as when I was a child.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Ithilann's dream= The Hobbit I Soundtrack- Riddles in the Dark;

-Ithilann and Ailinel= Lord of the Rings I Soundtrack- The Great Eye;

-Ithilann and Master Eothain= The Hobbit I soundtrack- Moon runes.

-Ithilann and Arwen's picnic as well as the diner= Lord of the Rings III Soundtrack- Twilight and Shadow;

-Ithilann, Elrohir and Elladan at the market= Vox Vulgaris – Rokatanc;

-Lord Elrond's lesson= Lord of the Rings I Soundtrack- The sword that was broken;

-Ithilann meet Master Eothain at the Training Field= Claymore Soundtrack- Utsushiki Kariudotachi;

-Ithilann and Urthel's talk= The Hobbit I soundtrack- Roast Mutton.

-Lady Ithilann steps in the tower and faces Prince Legolas= The Hobbit II soundtrack- Mirkwood.

Author's notes:

Thank you for keep reading me! The climax is coming lovely readers...Smart and cute reviews are always appreciated so feel free!

Next chapter: _To our children!_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

8


	13. To our children!

Author's notes:

It seems I have readers who do not review! Sad but thanks anyway for keep reading me! Kiss for all of you around the world!

* * *

 _ **Chapter 13: To our children!**_

 _Two weeks later…_

 _ ****Lord Elrond**_

The sunlight is illuminating brightly the Library of the Citadel as this morning ends. It brings back life to the blazon of the House of Gondor which illustrates its vault and is sparkling now on the immaculate flagstones. I regret that the heraldry of my own House- the House of my daughter, the Queen- is not much more perceptible.

-« Sír reithatham hired i ind athan i remmen o sen 'tournoi' medui [Today, we will try to determinate the reason behind this last tournament disarray. –sindarin] » I announce as only preamble;

-«Nauthon i… [ I think that…- sindarin]» she begins vulnerable;

-« Te thand ? [Is it true? -sindarin] » I ask with surprise. I have presumed that we will have to enter her mind using my few Edhil [elves –sindarin] abilities in the matters.

-« Eb hen íd aur nónen gelir naul eras Ithilann, gûlas gwein n'Herdir Dan. A ni cennin I adar nîn…il edh rinais i semmin othronn v'i ind nîn dofn dandellir dhorn anim. [Before this particular day I was happy being only Ithilann, young apprentice of Master Blacksmith. Then I caught sight of my father...all the memories that I locked up deep down in my mind has strongly came back to me. -sindarin] » she elaborates struggling to keep her face still. I think of her hypothesis for some times, calling upon my knowledge on the subject. In such circumstances, many elves would have succumbed. Only a hasty departure to Valinor could have saved the sicker souls, as it had been the case with my wife, the fair Celebrían. May she find peace in the Valar's lands. Conversely, a few centenarians Edhil [elves –sindarin] would have surely fallen into a deep cold which numbs the souls. Thereby Thranduil, the King of Taur-nu-Fuin, has not left his kingdom for many years, lost interest in Middle Earth's fate and, some think, in his own flesh and blood. It does not shed light on the current situation...'Although Ithilann shares the destiny of the Edhil, she also shares the one of the men' I thought finally. As their former King Isildur, men's hearts are weak, their spirits easily distracted by illusory promises of power and their mortal bodies imperfects. Nevertheless I have been surprised by the courage and the nobility of some among which the King Elessar stands. No one can guess what Ithilann and her great power will become without proper tutelage; it is time that a parent be responsible for this very young _peredhel_ [half-elf in sindarin] :

-«Cenin. Telil mên and od i 'ovadas 'wîn. I remmais indas lîn ad-nar, ach voe ortheril i ann lîn. Boe dadwenathol adh nin na Imladris an han, ni brigol. [I see. You have travelled a long way since our first meeting. The walls of your spirit hold on again, but you must control your gift. I am afraid that you have to accompany me to Imladris for that. -sindarin] »;

-« Mar ledhathol ? [When do you leave? -sindarin] » Ithilann asks inspecting old books lying on a heavy shelter of the gondorian Library;

-« Abarad [Tomorrow. -sindarin] » I answer simply. She turns around and my eyes cross her sad gaze. Once again, I notice with satisfaction how she is now able to hold her emotions.

-« Thia i penin cilas [It seems I have no choice. -sindarin] » my niece comments, resigned. I see her distress and I deeply regret all the ordeals that have left a mark on her being but cannot bend.

-« Ma. Dandolo n'i tars 'wîn [Good. Get back to work now. -sindarin] » I require only by my thought –I use no pronounced words-;

-« Oh ! Ma-nem ? [Oh ! Ho-ow ? -sindarin] » she manages to say despite her surprise;

-« Boe pannol i ind lîn annin mar cerin inco a…pedo ! [You have to open your mind to me while I will do the same and...speak! -sindarin] » I explain with a smile on my lips. The innocence of my niece about the culture and customs of Edhil [elves –sindarin] is certainly refreshing.

* * *

 _The Citadel, Minas Tirith - hours later_

 _ ****King Elessar**_

-« My friends! In the past we have gathered in hope to fight the army of orcs and uruk-hais which devastated Middle Earth under Saroumane's order, the traitor and Sauron himself. » I begin with a thundering voice. My tone is travelling along the Throne Room set for our celebration.

-« I meldir nîn ! Covannem eb vin estel na nagrad orch a uruk-hai gweth -toged na Churunír i 'urgof a est Sauron- i tunc guruthos Ennor. »my spouse translates with a softer voice in the most used language of the elves: the sindarin. As it should be, the Queen commands the attention and the respect of everyone but in Arwen's case, the magic happens without any effort on her side, I note once again with pleasure. My wife and I have opted for a two voices speech as a symbol of our will to renew and nourish fraternal bounds between Men and Elves. Since Lord Elrond had witnessed the weakness of King Isildur when he should have destroyed the Ring, he had not let his descendants forget this sad chapter of Middle Earth's History. Admittedly we would have wanted to feast with our close family and friends in order to celebrate the coming of the baby; however we could not forget the kingdom's interest.

-«In the battle, we have lost parents, brothers, sisters, children... » I say remembering with sadness the sacrifice of King Théoden, Lord Boromir, Captain Haldir and so many more. Today, I still can see their fixed gazes, their cold faces, their lifeless bodies. Perceiving my brief melancholy, my spouse holds my hand and goes on:

-« Nîrnim edhril, henair, nethil, hîn… min dagor »;

-«We started to lose hope and feared the cage which almost closed upon us. » I add while my eyes lie on Eowyn, the Lady of Ithilien. The answer of King Théoden's niece -when I wondered in very dark hours what could cause dread to this impetuous young woman- come back to me very often:« A cage, » she said. « To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire. »;

-«Estel heriant fired a 'ostannem i vand i ferholl am 'wen » the voice of the Queen raises;

-« But no sacrifice was in vain, we prevail. » I say as I look over the guests' faces.

-« Dan gurth il non nad, nónem gellui. » my spouse translates with some difficulty. She discreetly gives me a reproving look since in sindarin negation and nullity are obtained in very different way as in common speech. I find my smile again.

-«I am happy to know that we gather today, in time of peace, to rejoice together. » I conclude before turning to the Queen while she is finishing her translation:

-« Ni gelir begaith iston i covam sír, ned hen lû n'îdh, gogellam. »;

-« To our children! » I exclaim finally, my hand on her belly;

-« An i hên 'win. [To our children.] » she confirms in her mother tongue as she lays her elegant fingers on mine.

* * *

 _In the meantime at the Military House –Minas Tirith…_

 _ ****Inkama**_

«We have finally arrived, you will be able to properly rest now. » I say tiding the mare's reins where it is supposed to be. As only answer, she exhales loudly and eats the fresh hay near her. « And I too… » I whisper. Without me noticing, my footsteps are leading me to the room I share with other apprentices. At this time of the day, I will not be bother; this trip has exhausted me completely. Opening my bedroom door, I barely avoid two projectiles. It is two little traditional haradrim blades now stuck in the doorframe. They are for sure covered in reptiles' venom. My heart beats furiously, 'catch your breath' I exhort myself.

* * *

 _The Citadel– Minas Tirith_

 _ ****Prince Legolas**_

Once the royal couple has achieved their oration, the assembly split in small groups. Good wine and copious buffet are proposed so everyone could pleasantly discuss. On the occasion that has brought us together, the Throne Room had wore his most beautiful garments. Banners in House of Gondor's colours but also in the Queen's one are hanging proudly along the room where we are; 'all is done to make elves feel welcome' I thought delighted. In the background, we can hear the soft voice of a maiden sing the story of the Lady elf Lúthien and the mortal Beren accompanied by a harpist. Indeed, the royal couple had long feel connected to them and their dreadful quest of one Silmaril. As for me, I find myself in the company of King Elessar, Prince Faramir and Master Gimli:

-«How is Ithilien and your Household Prince Faramir ? » the King Elessar inquires politely;

-« My Household is well as for these lands, it is causing me much more worry. » he answers sombrely;

-«What do you mean? » the man alongside I battled the despicable Sauron and the power of his Ring asks. The Prince of Ithilien brings the cup to his lips before recounting the situation in the south-east of the Gondor's kingdom:

-« The War of the Rings has deprived us of most experimented officers and soldiers; in this conditions, it is not easy to get rid of the horde of orcs and uruk-hais who ravages the countryside. » I am very astonished to hear that, had we not cleared these lands of these vile creatures?

-« These nasty orcs! Why have you not said this earlier, I was getting in a rut in Minas Tirith! » my friend Gimli exclaims hitting my arm with his fist in order to gain my attention;

-«I did not think that significant hordes remained in Ithilien after the war. Had they not fled to the North Desert beyond the Grey Mountains and the Mont of Angmar? » I express finally;

-« I did not think it too; perhaps I should have refuse this poisoned gift from the King. » Prince Faramir comments with humour;

-« Ah ! I can rule this country by myself; I have to share my pains. I believe it is what one could call an honour. » King Elessar replies on the same tone;

-« That what I have been told. » the Prince of Ithilien acquiesces but his smile has disappeared. The situation in these lands must be serious and I cannot leave my old friends without assistance. Furthermore, I do not wish to take the road for the Woodland Realm of which I am the heir just yet:

-« Master Gimli is right, if you consent, we will as before provide you the help you need. »;

-« To this royal aid, I will ensure that Master Eothain adds some of his recruits. » the King of Gondor decrees with a soft smile;

-« I am lucky! I thank you. » Prince Faramir says, visibly relieved.

* * *

 _In the meanwhile in the Military House –Minas Tirith…_

 _ ****Inkama**_

Although the room is not very well illuminated, I distinguish a familiar silhouette through the darkness.

-« Tum naram ho gae ho ... mujhe kalpana hai ki yah aapake lie kathin hona chaahie, uttar ke in purushon ko yah maanana hai ki aap yuddh kee kala ke baare mein agyaanee the jab vaastav mein aap apane haathon mein se ek ke saath bade ho jaate hain.. [You have gone soft…I imagine that it must have been hard for you, to make these men of the North believe that you were ignorant about art of combat when in fact you grow up with one of these blades in your hand. – usual haradrim language] » my father starts bitter. « Jab tak aap vaastav mein bhool kar rahe hain tum kaun ho? [Unless you have forgotten who you are? – usual haradrim language] » he adds with a dangerous tone while manipulating a new blade between his fingers;

-« Main kaise kar sakata hai? ! main tumhen dekh kar khush hoon, lekin mujhe pata hai ki aapakee upasthiti itanee tuchchh nahin hai ... [How could I ?! I am happy to see you, however I know that your presence is not anodyne so…– usual haradrim language] » I say preparing myself to the confrontation which is about to come, no doubt;

-« Kyon vah abhee bhee jinda hai? [Why is she still alive?] » he attacks without preamble. « Aapaka chachera bhaee tha. [Your cousin was here. – usual haradrim language] » He reveals his source in front of my quizzically look. 'The little traitor' I though, 'how could I get out of this mess now? '. My father was an uncouth man, sometimes brutal but loving in his own way. Now that he is getting closer, his head glows under the few rays of light which skim the room, that reminds me how much my father was pious. As many Haradrim, he had shaved his head to symbolise his unwavering faith. He could never endure the deceiving truth, I must carry this burden alone and save what and who can be saved:

-« Kyonki apane samay nahin aaya hai, main bhavishy ko dekha hai, yah abhee bhee ek bhoomika hotee hai. [Because her time has not came, I have seen the future, she still have a role to play.] » I say using a tone that seems convincing enough to me and add with apparent detachment: « aap chuvar apane yahaan upasthiti ke any sadasyon ko soochit kiya hai? [Have you informed the rest of the Cuvar's members of her presence here? – usual haradrim language]». His face darkens and his voice gains in strength:

-« Ab tumhera se bahat laamba hai, aap ko chacha mein kuchh bhee tha, meenon pratibandh sakaata hai: nahin ... mujh din hai kee apane bhaee ko saahe hai hun. ho sakaata hai kee yaan kar kee aap khud ko sochen ke jhoo vaha itaana hai kee rop mein bura nahin tha kee anamatee ho ... [Not yet…I fear that your brother is right: away from your own kind for too long, you have believed that these people could become your friends. Perhaps have you even let yourself think that she was not so bad…– usual haradrim language] » My last question has been the last straw for my father, I realise that now but I had to take the risk. Now I must wait until the end of his monologue as I do not wish to set ablaze his anger or inflame this situation any further. « Bhavishyavaanee spasht hai: usakee aankhen aur kaan ke vyaktitv se uttar pahachaanane kee ek mahila vhait tree ke shahar ke nivaasiyon mein aatank hamala karega. koee kila use aur bhee adhik pavitr virodh karenge. yah nirmaata yugal ke bachchon ko jabt karane aur unhen nigal karane ke lie koshish karenge. keval ek aadamee harad ke desh rokega jinhen chuna hai. aapako lagata hai ki kaaran tum yahaan ho, aur kuchh nahin hai use maarane ke lie hai. [The prophecy is clear: a woman of the north recognizable from her singular eyes and ears will strike the inhabitant of the White Tree's City. No fortification will resist her, even the most sacred. She will capture the Creative Couple's children and will try to gobble them. Only a Chosen Man from Harad could prevent this. You have to kill her; it is the only reason of your presence here, nothing else. – usual haradrim language] » The ire of my father has turned into exaltation as he recites the predictions of the Cuvar's Wise...I have always find him much more worrying this way than when he was angry.

* * *

 _The Citadel – Minas Tirith_

 _ ****Lady Galadriel**_

I observe the preoccupied expression on my son in law's face as he gazes upon the young _peredhel_ [half-elf in sindarin] from time to time:

-«Le _prestannen oh i chên._ _[You are worried for this child_. -sindarin] » I point out;

-« Naw i fwîr nîn _ab il_ _._ [She is my niece after all. -sindarin] » The lord of Imladris answers simply. My son in law had already confided in me on the particular circumstances of little Ithilann's birth. A long time ago _Hîr_ Elrond [Lord Elrond – sindarin] had wed Celebrían, my daughter, before she went to Valinor. My heart broke at the memory and I console myself with the thought of our reunion when will come the time for me to reach its shore. So this child is rejoining our family though some Edhil [elves –sindarin] may not be pleased.

-« I valan dîn iaun, den pladon. [She has great powers, I can feel it. -sindarin] » I admit without fear of altering the future to our disadvantage. The light of her _fae_ [equivalent of the soul in sindarin] reminds me very much of the one of Melian, the Doriath Queen. She was a dear friend and Lord Elrond's ancestor who taught me so many things in matter of magic.

-« Man natha anden? Nad cenninil? [What awaits her? Have you seen something? -sindarin] » he solicits, his noble face still tormented by his worry. Recalling what I have seen in my water mirror, I decide to reveal the following:

-« I narn dîn ú-tôl narad vi pherf, uimanen natha lû mar echedatha i vanadh angwen. Boe len prestol i fae dîn Hîr Elrond, boe dartha puig. [Her story will not be recount in books, although a time will come when she will determine the destiny of all. You are right to be concerned about her soul Lord Elrond, she must remain pure. -sindarin] ». My son in law sights then finally says:

-«Tolo suilanna i fwîr nîn Heruin Galadriel, abbedatham o hen [Come greet my niece Lady Galadriel. We will speak about this later. -sindarin] » .

 _Further away in the Throne Room_

 _ ****Prince Legolas**_

-« I do not see your father my friend. » Aragorn points out;

-« My father…my father does not leave the Woodland Realm. I represent the elves of his kingdom. » I explain with sadness. Indeed my relationship with my father, the King Thranduil, had deteriorated for a long time. Over the years, he had become cold and distant, it made every attempt of bonding difficult.

-« 'His' kingdom ? » the sovereign underlines, a malicious spark in his eye. I meditate quietly on what King Elessar's is implying. Further away, Queen Arwen, Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond talk peacefully with Ithilann. Aragorn seems to notice the change in my demeanour: « What is going on with the cousin of my wife? ».

-« You know. » I say laconically;

-« It is a new word. » he argues with ease;

-« True. » I concede.

* * *

 _In the meantime at the Military –Minas Tirith…_

 _ ****Inkama**_

There is no chance left I get him to listen to reason now, so I have to scheme:

-« Pitaajee, mujhe pata hai ki yah sab aapako kitana chintit karata hai, rachanaakaaron ko pata hai ki aap ek pavitr vyakti hain jo seva karane se jyaada kuchh nahin chaahate hain. [Father, I know how much all of this worries you, the Creators know that you are a pious man who desire nothing more than to serve.] » I begin holding his hands and immerse my gaze in his. « Lekin agar ve tum mujhe unhen lene ke lie aur mujhe apane vishvaas mein badhaane ke lie ke lie chuna hai, ve mujhe is mishan ke lie naamit. maan prajaapati meree aatma aur mere haath maargadarshan. [However if they have chosen you to lead me to them and rise me in your faith, they have designated me for this mission. The Creative Mother guides my soul and my hand. – usual haradrim language] » I conclude with a firm voice as I squeeze his fingers in my own. My father nods, a proud expression on his face, however we are interrupted by my brother's voice:

-« Pita, Inkama. [Father, Inkama. – usual haradrim language] » he greets, a enigmatic smile on his lips;

-« Kumaran.» I say as I run to his arms. Although his face has remained boyish, it seems that his shoulders have broadened and his hair has grown long in the time we were apart;

-« Aisa lagata hai ki brekar deevaar vartamaan mein mahal mein rahata hai. suraksha du: khad hai. [It seems that the breaker of wall resides actually in the palace. The security of the place is deplorable. – usual haradrim language] » he announces with a satisfied tone;

-« Aap kya kiya? [What have you done? – usual haradrim language]» I ask worried as I release him;

-« Kya aap antatah tumhaara mein shaamil hone ke lie hona chaahie tha. [What have to be done for you to rejoin your family. – usual haradrim language]» he retorts with a dark face. My blood runs cold, I am even afraid to...has he executed Ithilann?

-« Tumane kya kiya! [What have you done! – usual haradrim language]» I exclaim griping his wrist;

-« Ke roop mein yah shuroo hua yah kahaanee khatm ho jaega. [This story will end as it has started. – usual haradrim language] » he spits freeing himself from my grip. I think I know what he means...but I have to act quickly;

-« Ab aap chhod dena chaahie main sab kuchh ka khyaal rakhana. [You have to leave now, I will handle everything. – usual haradrim language] » I say coldly;

-« Adhik ... [But…– usual haradrim language] » my father starts;

-« Ab! pitaajee! [Now ! Dad ! – usual haradrim language]» I order. I had no time to be polite;

-« Mere bete chalo, aisa lagata hai ki apanee bahan ka kaary apeksha se adhik samay hai. [Come my son, it seems that the task of your sister will take more time than intended. – usual haradrim language] » my father consents finally without taking his eyes of me;

-« Bahut ho chuka! main in bhavishyavaaniyon ke bakavaas ko bahut lamba khada kar chuka hoon, yah ek baat hai ki pitaajee ke paas keval aapake lie aankhen hain, chune hue! parantu aap! kya aap ghar vaapas nahin aana chaahate hain? [Enough! I have stood these prophetic nonsense far too long, it is one thing that dad only has eyes for you, the chosen one! But you! Do you not want to come back home? – usual haradrim language] » Kumaran explodes;

-« Beshak haan, lekin main ise abhee ke lie kar sakate hain. [Of course yes, but I cannot for now. – usual haradrim language] » I explain while his eyes darkens. « Kumaran… **»** I plaids;

-« Mujhase phir se baat mat karo. [Do not speak to me ever again– usual haradrim language] » he spits to my face, turns his back on me and goes away;

-« Main tum par garv hai, usake baare mein chinta mat karo, aap jaanate hain ki kaise apane bhaee aavegee hai, vah aap ke lie vaapas aa jaegee. [I am proud of you, do not worry about him, you know your brother's temper, he will come back to you. – usual haradrim language] » my father assures quietly. The terrible ordeal that Laurelin had sent to me was about to come true: I am choosing between others and my family. Was I condemned to lose them slowly but surely?

-« Usake baare mein achchha khyaal rakhana. [Take a good care of him. – usual haradrim language] I say then kiss my father on the cheek. He nods before leaving my dorm. I remove the two blades in the doorframe and run to Lôsteorra. « I am sorry, rest is not for today apparently. ».

* * *

 _The Citadel – Minas Tirith_

 _ ****Ithilann**_

How my life have changed in so little time! Younger I wished to accompany my father to Imladris, now I have to go with my uncle as _ada_ [father - sindarin] is banished from there. I sight and empty my cup. Around me, nobles and crown heads dressed in luxurious fabrics and delicate jewelleries seem to belong here when I do not know what to do with myself.

-« Itilann it is not? ». I turn around to put a face to the familiar voice who mispronounces my first name. She was an elderly dark haired woman, draped in a thick purple dress of satin enliven by heavy necklaces and hair jewelleries as the minas-tirithian custom wants it. She looks hard at me, taking the time to examine my garment -inspired by the Edhil of Imladris- with disapproving eyes. Under her gaze doubt touches my heart. 'Am I presentable enough?' I silently ask myself once again smoothing nervously the velvet of my dress with my hands. The dark turquoise garment hugs tightly my upper body then flaws beyond my waist. It has long sleeves, round collar and a long slit which open onto a white petticoat at hips level. Furthermore her neckline, her sleeves, her skirt are outline by strong silver threads as well as a vertical line that runs from my waist to the centre of my décolletage. To complete the outfit, I wear the generous present of Queen Arwen: a diadem and a belt engraved in tengwar.

-«Actually my name is Ithilann.» I say to find my composure again;

-« Whatever. My husband has related me a very strange story: the Blacksmith's kid roams around the hall of this noble abode decked out in the most beautiful garment and fineries. I have really thought that he had lost his mind but it is clear now that you are here. » the dark haired woman -who has still not taken the time to introduce herself – replies;

-«Lady Ivriniel, you know very well that the finest velvets cannot conceal every stains. » a red-haired woman comments malicious. I believe she is the wife of a knight named Targon. Whatever, neither of these women deserves my friendship in the end. Before anger strangles my voice, I want to make them bit the dust in a very Court kind of way:

-« I am not the kid of Master Blaksmith as you say, however if you have doubt about my lineage go ask the Queen, my cousin, about it at once. Oh! But perhaps you will be more at ease in the King presence? No response?... Good, I believe the subject is closed. » On this note, I go away no without throwing over my shoulder: « And you were right, they have let anyone enter here. », my gait deliberately relaxed.

As I am about to leave the Throne Room, Legolas -the most rude of all the elves princes- intercepts me. By Eru!

-«Lady Ithilann, I wish to talk to you. » he starts;

-« If you want to humiliate me once more, know that others see to it in your place. » I say with a vulnerable voice. I cannot stand it anymore, 'let me withdraw into my room!' I shout in myself.

-« I am sorry to hear that in fact… » he declares before he stops, seeming to have a inner debate but eventually adds sadden « Please forgive me for my behaviour lately, I am afraid I was out of line. ». I nod with shiny eyes and go to my room.

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Lady Ithilann and Lord Elrond talk about the past and the future= Lord of the Rings II Soundtrack- The story that was foretold;

-King Elessar and Queen Arwen's speech= Lord of the Rings Songs- "Aragorn sings Elendil's Oath" then "Arwen at the Coronation";

-Inkama is once again in Minas Tirith= Game of Thrones Season 6 Soundtracks – Bastard;

-King Elessar, Prince Faramir, Prince Legolas and Master Gimli talk about Ithilien, the song of Lúthien and Beren playing in the background= Eurielle - Lúthien's Lament;

-Thêvan confronts Inkama=Game of Thrones Season 4 Soundtracks – Meeren;

-Thêvan reminds Inkama of the prophecy= Game of Thrones Season 3 Soundtracks – Mhysa;

-Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond speak about the little Ithilann while King Elessar and Prince Legolas talk = Eurielle - Lúthien's Lament;

-Inkama and her family (father and brother)= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtracks – Love in the eyes;

-Ithilann, two Ladies of the Court and Prince Legolas (final scenes)= Lord of the Rings III Soundtrack- The eyes of the White Tower.

Next chapter: _Rasiya!_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

12


	14. Rasiya

Author's notes:

We are near the end of the Book 1 lovely readers; I hope you have liked it as much as I. Please see the clip Rasiya from the movie Mangal Pandey on youtube to understand the spirit of this chapter and the choreography. Kisses!

* * *

 _ **Chapter 14 : Rasiya**_ [Rascal – haradrim usual language]

 _ ****Inkama**_

Never the distance from the Military House to the Citadel appeared this long. Swiftly and out of breath I dismount and make my way through the White Tower to Ithilann's room – now soldiers and domestics remember me-. Taking a deep breath, I push its heavy oak door: 'Urg let it not be these nasty creatures, let it not be that!' I plead silently while I enter gingerly the room that is fortunately unoccupied for now. I whistle according to a particular interval which I have been taught by the _Cuvar_ although pray silently to be wrong. Unfortunately quivering and clicks answer my call. 'Why does this pour on me? I must be the only Haradrim who cannot bear these things!' I thought. Indeed, further south, beyond Minas Tirith, these reptiles are to be regarded as revered harbingers of the Creative Couple. With a beating heart, I move the blanket where I localise the noise disturbance through a candelabra. As expected, a Great Desert's black viper slithers on the sheet. Despite my clammy hand, I tighten my grip around the silver objects, my spine drenched in cold sweat, « Nasty snake! » I hiss through my teeth. I could kill the animal right now with the haradrim blades that are still in my hand, however it would not be very discreet: blood stains and tears will remain on the fabric. So I move the reptile with the help of my improvised tool as I hold my breath. Annoyed, the animal spits aggressively but I succeed and finally throw the traditional blades while the viper seeks to retreat under Ithilann's bed.

 _ ****Ithilann**_

-« Nát undu lyë. [They are beneath you. - quenya] » the voice in my head reasons as I hurry to leave the Throne Room;

\- « Lyen uan carpa ! [I do not want to talk to you! - quenya] » I exclaim internally, struggling to keep the tears at bay;

-« Mana ten kastan áptëal helmënya ? Manassë asapolël race sámanta. [Why refuse my friendship? When you can break their minds so easily. - quenya] » the spin-tingling voice cajoles me;

-« Uanyël maurë, á auta ! [I do not need you, go away!] » I explode before I get a grip on myself -aware that I do not know the scope of the voice's powers-: « là ! [please! - quenya] ». I quicken my pace, eager to find my room again:

-«You are here! ...Are you not happy to see me? » she asks with a strange tone. 'Perhaps I have surprised her by pushing my door violently' I thought my joy so great to find her again that I do not linger on the subject:

-« Inkama ! » I exclaim holding her in my arm. I was so afraid to leave Minas Tirith without having the chance to say goodbye to her.

-« Easy, don't squeeze me! » she objects laughing;

-« How long have you been here? » I enquire curious;

-«I have came back to Minas Tirith a few minutes ago as you can see.» she says gesturing to her travel clothes, before she adds with her usual enthusiasm: «I wanted to let us the opportunity to spend some time together...By the way, what about you meet me at The Cracked Shield Inn once I have cleaned myself up and you have put a more adequate garment on? ». Indeed Inkama's shirt, tunic and pans have seen better day as well as her old boots stained by some soil. She also seems a little sweaty.

-« Uh yes why not… » I start grimacing: I did not know how to speak with sensitivity about the new relationship between Inkama's former companion and Finduilas, who works for the inn in question;

-« Good. Later ! » my friend interrupts me before she turns around and walks away;

-« Inkama wait ! »I hail my comrade but she is already too far.

* * *

Meeting my friend in front of the inn as planned; I take a deep breath and tell her about my discovery concerning Arod and Finduilas. Emotions succeed one another on Inkama's face.

-« Inkama…do you want to go somewhere else? » I propose, sadden to see my comrade in this situation;

-« No ! » she exclaims full of anger as she is about to enter the establishment. That is when I have noticed something. Before she even passes The Cracked Shield Inn's threshold I grip her forearm:

-« You have something on our neck…blood? »;

-« Oh it's nothing! My nose bled before I have arrived to Minas Tirith. I must have missed it when I have cleaned myself up. » she explains as she wipes vigorously the spot I point out to her. Once we are seated, I have no choice but to hail Finduilas :

-«Good evening, what will it be for you? » the young woman asks as she approaches. We can read a barely contained astonishment on her face but she does not breathe a word about it: few women must attend this place least of all dressed in military clothes.

-«Two beers and that would be all. Thanks.» I answer curtly. Although my friend remains silent, she stares at her.

-«Here we go. » Finduilas states and leaves our table. When we are distant enough from her, I go on:

-«Are you ok ? » she smiles softly and nods for only answer. « Good. » I comment out loud before I decide to converse about her recent trip as well as my next journey. The announcement of this new, leaves Inkama's face indecipherable.

-« I thought so. » she states simply;

-« How come? » I ask incredulous;

-« I thought so, it is all. » she says shrugging. Finduilas comes back with our two pints; we thank her and give the woman a few coins. After that, we remain in silence for some time even thought Arod's new companion is gone.

 _ ****Inkama**_

Ithilann's news concerning her imminent journey to the lands of Lord Elrond hardly surprises me. On my way back to Minas Tirith, pages of our future had opened to me. We were destined to go on separate way at least for a while. No matter what the _Cuvar_ wants. 'However my premonitions had not concerned Arod directly' I thought bitter as I look at Finduilas over my comrade's shoulder. The young Gondorian moves smoothly between the tables with a discreet smile. Her harmonious and without asperity kind of face was framed by her medium chestnut hair. Arod could not have chosen a woman more different from me. _Speak of the Chaos and he shall appear_!: my former companion enters my line of vision as my eyes were on Finduilas. My heart beats furiously. Quickly lowering his head, a tormented expression on his face, he seems to have notice me; however a few seconds later he proudly stands up straight with new find courage and... presses himself excessively against Finduilas, his arms around her waist, his lips in her neck...The little...woo! I do not even have the word for him right now. As she notices my silence, my comrade calls upon me before following visually the object of my inattention.

-« Oh Eru, Inkama ! I…I am sorry. He is a moron. » Ithilann sympathises with me, compassionate;

-« To say that I come to regret my attitude toward him during my journey !... » I exclaim losing my temper. 'Suddenly my doubts have vanished! However if he thinks that I have said my last word, he will be surprised' I thought this time silently. « Don't be sorry for me, help me instead. » I say to Ithilann;

-« How ? » my comrade replies more than taken aback;

-« Follow my lead…» I command with insurance before clarifying over my shoulder: « Rasiya. [Rascal – usual haradrim language ] »;

-« Inkama ?! Inkama ! It is a bad idea. » she panics behind me as I head toward the owner of this place;

-«Innkeeper ! I like your inn very much! » I start using my charm;

-« Me too little lady, it is my baby. » the innkeeper answers;

-« I understand. Only this time your 'baby' seems a little less lively than usual. » I comment with gentleness before I add « Allow me to remedy this? », my hand on his;

-« Suit yourself…» the old man consents, a malicious spark in his eyes;

-« I will need this. » I conclude designating with my shin the copper pitcher that he is currently polishing. With some reluctance, the innkeeper gives me the object in question. I collide several times the container against the bar and obtain the desired racket so I can have everyone attention: « Oyez oyez, gentles Ladies and Sirs, as you know I am woman of the desert, an arid and lethal land to anyone who does not understand its laws. In this desolate place we have learn to celebrate life! Because we must!... ».

 _ ****Ithilann**_

-« Don't you think you overdo it?» I whisper while Inkama is within earshot. My friend winks at me and goes on:

-« …As the Citadel celebrate the future coming of the heir, I am happy to find myself among you to honour this happy day. »;

-« Yes but how? » a man more or less pickled asks. A murmur of approbation is heard among the assembly;

-« By singing and dancing of course.». Walking the walk as well as talking the talk, Inkama lands on one of the tables which ornament the centre of the room: _« Machhali tadpe jaal mein/ main tadpu karke pyar/ andar ghat tak pyas hai/ aur nass nass mein angaar/»_ As she is singing with a melancholic voice the first couplet of this haradrim love song named « Rasiya»; she almost lets her back gratify its oak surface. Seated men around her cheer her initiative by hitting the table with their hands as well as trying to grasp her but she extracts herself gracefully. Griping once again the pitcher, my friend intimates a quick rhythm to the assembly by striking the object at regular intervals while her voice is getting darker. _« Hmmmm ! haaa!/ bata de re gudiya hai wo kaun rasiya/ jo manva churaye is tarah/ bata de re gudiya hai wo kaun rasiya/ jo manva churaye is tarah/ »_ Inkama entrusts the pitcher to a young man now completely under her spell, gesturing him to continue the percussion in the same way. _« Wo chaliya wo rasiya julmi mann basiya/ wo chaliya wo rasiya haye julmi mann basiya/»_ she goes on with a more playful voice and grip my hand. Inkama taught me this dance but how can I put it into word...the choreography is very different from the one of Edhil [elves – sinadrin] or other Men far over the Harad. _« Nain se milaye naina wo, lute nindiya chain wo/ wo chaliya wo rasiya/_ _»_ my friend continues on the same tone while we gyrate our hips in rhythm before running our forefinger under our eyes in a dramatic way to underline our gaze. Once this sequence finished, I pretend to catch her so she can escape in a spin. Fervour and excitation is spreading to the inn's customers.

 _ ****Lord Elladan, son of Lord Elrond**_

Finally! After some convincing, I have managed to drag my twin Elrohir as well as _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas - sindarin] out of this long ceremony before we die of boredom. Master Gimli chose to stay at the Citadel to devote himself completely to his favourite hobby: to flirt with the noble Ladies. Our horses lead us to destination in a matter of minutes: The Cracked Shield Inn. Before we even cross the threefold of the fine establishment, I hear with pleasure the loud and lively brouhaha which comes from it as well as what seems to be the sound of tankard bumping into one another. A very different ambiance compares to the tedious one of the Citadel.

-« The Cracked Shield Inn seems to enjoy some success tonight. » the Prince of Taur-nu-Fuin comments with is usual calm and measured tone;

-« Indeed ! » I confirm ecstatic while my brother simply nods, a smile on his lips. Once we enter the inn, we realize that something unusual is going on.

The brouhaha that I heard from outside is getting clearer: a beautiful female voice accompanied by some sort of percussion sings a song unknown to me while clients' whistling and cheering incite the young woman or women to go(es) on. Indeed, if I can only count one singer through tonight tumult, the customers' comments seem to be addressed to two people. Curious, I try to break through this wall of human silhouettes which conceals the delightful voice as my two accomplices do the same. Imagine my surprise when my eyes lie on my cousin Ithilann as well as a beautiful brunette. The two maiden have easily captured the attention of the assembly -essentially masculine- by the art of singing and dancing. Suffice to say that I was not pleased to see my cousin in the company of so many men who have bedroom eyes for her. I feel my jaw tighten despite myself. Yet I have to admit that their acts are a little daring; and what could I say about her comrade? As she sways her hips standing on the dumbfounded innkeeper's counter, I can only admire her exotic beauty. The young dark-haired woman has the complexion of the men who inhabit the vast desert country in the south as well as long shiny hair and captivating dark eyes framed by black tick lashes. Could she be the Haradrim competitor of the earlier tournament? I regret that her physiognomy is concealed by her man's clothes -perhaps military one- however, if it is indeed the wounded warrior then, nothing is out of place. Tearing myself away from the spell in which the young woman has put me, I look for _Ernil_ Legolas [Prince Legolas - sindarin] and my twin. The heir to the Woodland Realm is not far from me so I succeed to get his attention. The Prince glances at me briefly before he turns red and looks away. 'He should get out more.' I thought shaking my head. Thanks to an unhoped crowd movement -surely some drunks searching for filled pints-, I find myself much closer to the stranger beauty.

 _ ****Inkama**_

 _« Bigdi banat banat ban gayi/ gudiya manat manat man gayi? jalat jalat jal gayi/ chunari dhalat dhalat dhal gayi/ [Swoly but surely, she falls in his trap?As the flames start to lick her, her veil begins to slip].»_ I sing in my mother of the corner of my eye, I localise Ithilannwho had pilfered the tankard of a man built like a beer, a malicious look on her face; while in front of me stands a fulminating Arod. As for Finduilas, she went back to her task with some difficulty considering the gathering around us. _« Rasiya ! Chaliya! [That Racsal! That philanderer!– usual haradrim language] »_ I get rid of my boots gazing at my former companion defiantly and put my feet on the customer's shoulders that have agglutinated around the counter, moving from a small metre that way. What sweet revenge after the tournament's debacle! Once on the ground, I sprint the distance that separate my position from Arod. The prospect of me landing in his arms seems to make him feel equally tensed and excited. I can barely conceal the devious smile which graces my lips before I leap on his neighbour to the right a few inches away from him. _« Bata de re gudiya hai wo kaun rasiya/ jo manva churaye is tarah [Oh tell me, lass, who is he? Who's that thief in your dreams? – usual haradrim language] »_ I goes on as my naked foot and my hands caress the torso of the attractive stranger. Indeed, I am usually immune to the elves' charm; this one is only the exception that proves the rule. Pleasantly surprised, the stranger grasps my waist and raises me of the ground in order to swirl me. _« Hmmm ! oh ! »_ I hum although discountenanced. His blue-grey piercing gaze had made Arod disappeared from my mind momentarily. For the rest, his elongated face, his angular shin, his dark straight hair, his pale and smooth complexion as well as his luxurious garment: I have spent enough time in Minas Tirith to recognize the feature of Lord Elrond's people. _« Ha hai kaun wo wo sipaiya jo daiya hai/ daiya hai manva churaye mora [He's a soldier, a brave warrior who by my word has stolen my heart. – usual haradrim language] »_ I sing as our public whistles enthusiastic…. The spell is broken when we hear in the background the Following: « Keep your hand of my cousin! That enough Ithilann, we are leaving this place!».

* * *

Soundtrack in order of appearance:

-Inkama save Ithilann whithout her knowledge= Games of Thrones Season 6 Soundtrack – Reign;

-the voice speaks to Ithilann= Lord of the Rings Songs= Seduction of Aragorn;

-Ithilann and Inkama's reunion= Game of thrones Season 2 Soundtrack – Valar Morghulis;

-Ithilann and Inkama enter the Cracked Shield Inn= Claymore Soundtrack - Haruka na Michinori;

-Inkama sings= Mangal Pandey – Rasiya;

-Prince Legolas, Lord Elladan and Lord Elrohir arrive at the the Cracked Shield Inn= Lord of the Rings III= The last debate;

-Inkama sings= Mangal Pandey – Rasiya (continuation).

Next chapter: _The gift of saying goodbye_

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!

8


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